


Lost in the universe

by Knight_of_darkness



Category: Merlin (TV), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angry Morgana, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hugs, Kara Danvers Has PTSD, Kara Danvers Needs a Hug, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Morgana Needs a Hug, Morgana gets the support she needs, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-10-25 01:57:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17715866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knight_of_darkness/pseuds/Knight_of_darkness
Summary: “Lena? What happened? Where are we?“, voice clearer and stronger.Eyes not anymore glistening and dull, but a rich blue reminding her of the sky enlightened in the mornings by the sun. Lively like everything the sun touched, summer days filled with blossoming flowers, of rabbits and deers prancing through lush knee high grass. The vitality of summer, evaporating every single sound of a warning bell, shifting her equilibrium.Or,Morgana is searching for answers and instead finds an alien.





	1. Chapter 1

Kara smiled at Oliver and Barry waving her goodbyes. Finally, these two were back in their own lives and they restored reality to how it was. She was exhausted and ready for a hot shower and her own bed, after being imprisoned by an evil version of her cousin, who was in reality Deegan, a misguided version of her sister and nearly dying. 

She couldn’t wait to be back in her apartment and have a full night's rest. Maybe she would call Alex. Seeing the other vision of her sister, so lost and starved for love. It devastated her, and she had to remind a part of her, that she couldn’t stay, Kara had her own Alex.

She hoped her not sister would find someone, who would show her true happiness. And she wanted to curl herself around her sister and never let her go, to shower her with love and attention. Alex would playfully push her away, before she would succumb to her wishes, cuddling on her old couch. Nothing would feel more than home.

While Kara was always pleased to help, especially her friends, the whole Book of Destiny left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. So having told her goodbyes, Clark, Lois and her jumped back into a portal leading back to Earth-38. 

Fate didn’t even let her revel in her victory and accomplishment. Out of the blue the portal seemed to sputter. Sparks flew like electricity around them. They had no time to wonder as more things happened at once.

Clark holding Lois in a protective embrace.  
The light getting brighter and brighter.  
A force colliding with her making her stumble.  
She fell. Lights danced before her eyes, some green shapes and then Kara felt tearing in her suit. She crashed with something hard, unforgiving and blacked out.

* * *

That’s not how she imagined the situation playing out. Merlin had told her where to find the druids, but even knowing the forest, since she was little, the directions had been vague. 

The sun nearly crossed the sky, and she still hadn’t reached the camp. Stumbling again over a root, hidden by the fallen leaves around her, she wished for her chain-mail and her breeches instead of her grown and the red cloak. The cloak was at least practically, keeping the cold away and had helped conceal her dagger and sword from the guards in Camelot.

Her departure after her talk with Merlin had been in haste, afraid somebody could read her intentions clearly in her face. It had been complicated to navigate through the castle without stumbling into a guard patrol.

Uther had been so paranoid, he switched the timing of the patrol frequently after the last few attempts on his life or Arthur's. Maybe Uther had already noticed her disappearance and had sent knights after her. The thought alone petrified her.

She envisioned the guards presenting her manacled to Uther as he sat on his throne. What he would do if he suspected. He would demand her head without a doubt. She couldn’t return, she wouldn’t come back to Camelot. Even if her assumptions proved wrong, she couldn’t stay and do nothing in face of his madness.

Everything was better than staying there. The tyranny of Uther only got worse, endless executions and witch hunts, and he thirsted for more and more magical blood. 

Even being his ward would not protect her from his wrath against all sorcery. And she feared ending up burned or hung if he ever found out, she had ma-, strange prophetic visions. She wasn’t safe around him, all her instincts told her to run the moment he came near her.

Foolishly a part of her still hoped someone was bewitching her, but the fear curling in her stomach, twisting around her throat stealing her breath told her otherwise. As did the remembrance of her fast beating heart, the strange visions playing in her mind and the warmth inside her rising and overflowing and bursting in a sizzling spark igniting her curtains and burning them to ashes.

She hadn’t been sure, having had these visions and startling awake, that she had done it, but by it was the only explanation. It had happened so fast and so instinctive, as if it had reacted to her fear, she didn’t understand what was becoming of her.

Morgana shook her head, running her fingers through her tangled hair. The druids were the only hope she had for answers once she knew there was no turning back any more. She would never see Gwen smile or could tease Arthur ever again, never would find peace, being hunted down and prosecuted for something she didn’t choose. Alone with the crippling fear as only companion.

Something interrupted all her thoughts, a loud crack echoing through the air, a bright light that fell from the sky, a shooting star, another thunderous crack and crash that uprooted over six trees. Morgana stumbled, lowering herself to the ground, yanking her sword out of its sheath. She exhaled slowly. Nothing came running at her, it was airily quiet. Morgana knew logical she should continue searching for the camp, what should be in the other direction of the crash, but it piqued her curiosity. 

What could have fallen from the sky? And why? Was it magic? She made her way where she last spied the light, keeping alerted and listening to her surroundings. No rustling in the bushes, no animal cries or footsteps, everything was fairly quiet as if the whole forest waited with bated breath.

As she drew nearer, she eyed broken branches and twigs, the earth under her feet was torn up and at the end of the tracks awaited her an unlikely sight. In a crater that was so deep like a horse tall laid a woman. Her eyes narrowed that was not possible. 

Morgana couldn‘t see her features because she laid face first on the ground. Only blond long tresses, caked with mud and blood, a deep red cloak without a bonnet and strange red boot rising to the back of the woman' s knees were visible. Decision made, Morgana sheathed her sword before lowering herself into the crater drawing carefully nearer to the fallen figure.

Anticipation raised within her. She crouched beside her, inspected the blonde, glimpsing a wound in her back. A thin branch was sticking out at the side of her spine and seemed to penetrate the front.

She ought to help the limp woman. Recognising she would harm the woman further if she turned her, Morgana broke off as much as she could from the branch before doing so. The front of the stranger looked even worse. 

Her face was a mess of blood and earth, and the unfamiliar clothing was torn in various places. Bleeding scratches littered her torso and legs. Some shallow, some deeper. On her chest was a sigil that reminded Morgana of old long forgotten runes or maybe a family crest. Knights normally wore their house crest on their breastplates and their house colours. This coat of arms were unfamiliar to her. If Morgana didn’t know better, she would have believed the blonde to be a warrior with her well-muscled physique.

Unfathomable the blond was still breathing, rattling. The branch had pierced through the stomach. Trying to recall what Gaius did with hurt knights in these situations, didn’t help. She never had much interest in his work. 

Sword fighting and riding held her interests. Realising the object needed removing, Morgana took her dagger and tried to cut off parts of the cloak the blonde was wearing, so she could bandage with it the wound afterwards. To her frustrations the material of the cloak didn’t budge, neither for her dagger nor for her sword. Grumbling, emitting her frustration and her unwillingness, she cut of stripes of her gown, before setting up for work.

Morgana couldn’t have foreseen something like that happening. Gaius would have known what to do, but to the strangers luck merely she was there to aid her. First she put a hand around and besides the branch, extracting it slowly and steadily, blood oozing out of the wound. 

Morgana knew the wound could become infected or wouldn’t heal if something remained inside, so she clenched her teeth, ignored the bile raising in her throat and felt inside the wound for fragments of wood. The woman let out an anguished whimper but stayed unconscious. Thinking she got everything, Morgana briskly wrapped the makeshift bandages around the entry and exit wound, as tightly as she could to stop the profuse bleeding.

The blonde’s chances of survival weren’t high and regret rose inside her. It was a strange feeling creeping up in her. Morgana never had seen this woman and still a part of her felt deeply saddened at the thought of her demise. Eventually this taken care of, they needed to find shelter before nightfall. 

The forest was at night an even more dangerous place with creatures and myths roaming the place. More than once she had heard whispers from hunters and travellers about horrifying monsters and unexplainable occurrences. Bandits in daylight she could handle. Monsters from myths?

Morgana was certain, she didn’t wish to find out. The limp women didn’t appear to awaken soon. Morgana tried to lift the unconscious stranger up, muscles straining under the weight. The blonde heavier than she looked. Somehow she made it, both arms of the woman thrown over her shoulder and the rest leaning on her back. Inhaling she could smell the blood, sweat and a faint note, reminding her of berries tart. Adjusting her grip on the women, she stepped forward unbalanced by the additional weight. It wasn’t comfortable for her, and she was glad the other woman wasn’t aware of being dragged through the forest. 

Breathing hard in exertion and cursing, the last sun rays guided her way. With no answers, more questions and a strange woman, she hurried as best as possible. Morgana definitely hadn’t planned for anything like that and her survival depended on finding shelter before a creature followed her tracks and the smell of blood.

* * *

How had she found herself in this predicament? Slumped against a moist cave wall somewhere in the woods. Shortly after sunset she had found a cave, overgrown with vines and moss. 

It was perfectly hidden between bushes and trees, the entrance small and tight to manoeuvre with someone unconscious. The cave seemed to be a camp for outlaws; it was not huge and had a hole in the ceiling letting the light of the sickle-shaped moon in. On corners grew fungus, and she was sure she had seen a mouse scurrying around.

Items scattered around, supplies, weapons, but the fireplace only had left a few smaller twigs. It looked untouched for at least a few days, so she considered it a lot safer than the woods. Morgana had let the blonde down as gently as she could, not very, on top of a bedroll.

Checking her over if she was still breathing, Morgana searched the cave for medical herbs, bandages or potions. Finding bandages and stronger smelling alcohol she crouched beside the blonde again. Ignoring the metallic smell of blood, she unwrapped the soaked cloth from the wound. 

Queasy with how the blood was pouring out of the wound, she cleaned it with the alcohol and bandaged it neatly. Wetting another piece of cloth, she tried to sanitise the other scratches the blonde had, and washed away with water the filth from the woman's face and her own blood caked hands.

Seeing for the first time the woman’s features unobscured. The woman had a certain look; the sigil embedded on her chest, framed by long blond hair, the broad shoulders, her form lithe, muscled. Up to her pale pink lips and her strong jaw, giving her an aura of nobility even with how sickly pale she was. Astonished by her resilience. Still breathing laboured but alive. 

Softly brushing the hair from the blonde’s face behind her ear. The skin was warm and smooth. Shaking off these thoughts she distanced herself. Knowing she couldn’t do more, Morgana sunk down next to her on another bedroll.

Morgana's feet hurt, she was definitely getting blisters, her back was stiff, her whole body felt sore. Her gown was filthy and torn up. This cave smelt mouldy, and the air was stale and cold. Unsheathing her sword and dagger, she laid them ready to hand beside her. Hoping she would hear people or animals nearing the cave in time. 

Morgana wasn’t keen on being caught unaware by the inhabitants of this lair or the howling creatures that might find them. Exhausted deep to the bones, she ate some dried meat, she found and drunk watered down wine, which she nearly spat out for its horrible taste.

Finding the druids hadn’t sound hard with the anxiety and uncertainty of her fate motivating her to get away far, far away from Camelot, by that from Uther. Now sitting here, cold even with her cloak and worried about the stranger, she wanted to scream. 

Everything was overwhelming her, the frustration of getting nowhere near getting answers, mad how she had to leave the only home she knew, the fear of being discovered. Morgana felt the tears welling up in her eyes, her throat closing and her shoulders shaking. Wrapping herself tighter in her cloak, she laid down, focusing on the loud rattling breathing beside her and closed her eyes. Morgana cried herself into a deep slumber.

Chirping roused her from her sleep. She groaned and regretted opening her eyes, only to be blinded by the bright sunlight. Her head throbbing and eyes burning from the lack of peaceful sleep. Morgana stretched her arms, feeling her sore muscles and rubbed the sleep drowsily from her eyes. Moaning as she sat up and felt her bones popping, she yawned and longing for more rest. Her awareness slowly came and with it the realisation, she couldn’t hear any breathing. 

Startled Morgana reached towards the blonde searching for her pulse almost frantically. Feeling it imperceptible under her touch, she exhaled relieved. Caressing the fabric under her fingertips it was cool, smooth the texture foreign to her. Examining the women, some scratches already had scab and a healthy glow had returned to her cheeks. Laying the back of her hand on the forehead of the women, she could feel the heat emanating from it and sweat that had collected in her hairline. Likely a fever brought on by an infection. There wasn’t much to be done. Morgana was just glad she hadn’t killed the women yesterday with her insufficient medical capabilities. 

Drinking water, she made a wet rag and laid it gently on the stranger's forehead. Dabbing away the sweat and the other hand wandering. The rest of the blonde seemed also to radiate heat, and she feared the wound made have truly become infected. Their chances of getting discovered became higher and higher while her the blondes chances of survival got lower and lower the longer she didn’t wake up. Morgana mournfully stroked her cheek. 

Picking up on low whimpering, she looked down and froze. Glistening, pale blue eyes were open and looking unfocused around, before training on her. For a moment her whole form seemed to tense, muscles flexing under Morgana’s grip only to relax a moment later.

A grin formed on pale pink lips, blue eyes sparkling delighted. A barley concealed tenderness in them. Morgana’s hand shook and watched entranced as the women raised her hand as if trying to reach her.

“Lena? “, the voice sounded scratchy and hoarse and the simple name left the blonde coughing and wincing in pain. Lena? Who was Lena? Checking that she was the only person around, Morgana faced the woman confused.

“Something went wrong. “, muttered the blonde, her eyelids already falling close again. No, no, she couldn’t just go back to sleep. What went wrong? How did the women end up here? And wounded. Had she been ambushed? Had that gone wrong? Sputtering with questions, she halted. 

The woman was out again, breathing deeply and steadily, dead to the world around her. Morgana spent the rest of the day watching over her, restless with unused energy and anxious with waiting. Waiting for someone else to make a move, feeling like she had already lost the battle, her fate decided. 

A few times noises startled her coming from outside, she tensed and grabed her sword, only to loosen it when the noise went away, nothing coming near their hiding spot. The rest of the day passed the same, the stranger not waking, but squirming and mumble foreign words and whimpering in agony from her movements.

Gwen once described how she moved and tensed when one of her nightmares happened, always waking with her sleeping robe sticking to her with sweet and herself tangled in the blankets. Morgana was curious to whom the woman was or what. She had fallen from the sky, seemed to see things that weren’t there and had an exotic inflection on her spoken words, not leaving out these odd garments. 

Could she have magic? A follower of the Old Religion? Or was she recklessly hoping for someone who would understand what was happening to her? 

Not to be alone anymore. Morgana felt the same sensation welling up in her, a heat that was licking at her insides, simmering right under her skin. Itching in anticipation. Not yet encompassing her complete, merely lingering. Maybe it would have been more wise to locate the druids. Not making any stops on her way, but what would that make her?

Leaving the women in the forest bleeding out. The thought alone made her want curl into herself. There were none regrets. Helping had been her choice and would always be her choice. And now there was something indecipherably about the blonde eliciting electric pulses prodding at her skin.

There was a certain awareness of the women in her mind, like a warm smouldering fire you didn’t need to see to feel it in the air. The heat, the crackling, the smoke. Without even seeing it you knew it was burning.

The sun set and the moon came out, illuminating the darkness of the night. Weary and haggard Morgana went to rest.

The next day come and went with nothing changing. The day later was more fortunate. After eating and drinking, she kneeled close to her patient. Inspecting the blonde the wounds appeared to heal and Morgana’s medical knowledge was limited, so she didn’t know if the recovery of the stranger was too fast or too slow, never hearing of someone falling from the sky and surviving.

She was consoled by the vehemence the heart under her hand seemed to beat. Grasping and fighting for her life. Morgana grew alerted when a rasp interrupted her thoughts.

“Lena? What happened? Where are we?“, voice clearer and stronger.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys. So here is the second chapter hope you enjoy it!

Eyes not any more glistening and dull, but a rich blue reminding her of the sky enlightened in the mornings by the sun. Lively like everything the sun touched, summer days filled with blossoming flowers, of rabbits and deers prancing through lush knee high grass. The vitality of summer, evaporating every single sound of a warning bell, shifting her equilibrium. 

This time a certain awareness in them. It left Morgana unsettled. Her palms felt suddenly sweaty, her heart racing and her cheeks flushing. First she didn’t need a mirror to fathom, how filthy she must look or how tangled her locks have gotten, Morgana fretted with it trying to make it look more passable. 

Secondly, she had eagerly awaited the blondes awakeness but hadn’t planned what to say to her. She hadn’t even be sure if she would awake, hoped not known. Lastly, the blonde had called her Lena like they were familiar with each other.

Morgana never had met her, she would remember her. Should she tell her? That she wasn’t Lena? Was it better to wait and see how disorientated the woman was?

“I found you wounded in the forest.“, Morgana answered truthfully, trying to read the other women. A confused look settled in her face, squinting at Morgana unsure, scrunching her eyebrows together. 

“Forest? All I remember is jumping into the Portal with Lois and Clark.“, the blonde hesitated, attempting to sit up whimpering and grimacing in obvious misery.

“Halt, you will hurt yourself further. “, Morgana reached for her, but the blonde persisted till she was sitting up on the bedroll, sweat running down her face and panting. Movements noticeable sluggish.

“Where are we? “, the stranger asked, her eyes hushing around taking in her environment, then focusing on her. Had Morgana not observed her so intensely, she wouldn’t have seen the blonde’s muscles tensing her whole form turning defensive and prepared for a fight even while hurt. 

“We are in the forest close to Camelot. “, Morgana replied softly, attempting to sooth the stiff women, discouraging her from thinking she was a threat. Despite this, the blonde scrutinised her for a few long moments, cautiously regarding her and glancing at the sword resting on Morgana’s lap.  


“You are not Lena.“, a statement not a question.

“I’m Morgana, Ward of Uther Pendragon.“, the words tasted bitter on her tongue, a habit she would need to get rid of herself. “And who might you be? “

“Kara Danvers. And Camelot as the Camelot? King Arthur’s Camelot? With Excalibur, dragons and magic? With the great Merlin?“, the blonde, Kara stumbled over the words, looking at her like she hoped Morgana would disagree with her. 

“King Arthur? He is the Crown Prince of Camelot. Dragons have been wiped out at the hands of Uther for a long time and the great Merlin? He is the personal servant of Arthur, nothing great about that.“, Morgana replied bewildered. 

Furtively glancing the women up at down. Had she hit her head? How would Morgana know? Kara’s hair was muddied and bloody. Should she prod her head for further injuries?

“A servant? He is the greatest sorcerer of all time if the stories are to be believed. Protecting King Arthur and Camelot from anyone, who dared to harm them.“

“Merlin a sorcerer? He has no magic.“

“So nothing strange ever has happened to him or around him? No surviving or mastering the unthinkable? Arthur never got away unharmed from a situation that should have killed him?“, Kara inquired with a roguish, disbelieving grin brimming with confidence. 

Morgana bristled at the absurd implication. She wanted to deny it, the idea of Merlin owning magic to ludicrous. But he had saved Mordred, helped her hide him. And the time he had accused Valiant of carrying a shield of enchanting serpents. How he had saved Arthur the first time, from the knife, faster than anyone could comprehend. Always there at convenient times to save Arthur. Merlin constantly appeared to be near where ever there was trouble in Camelot. As a servant, he could spy and listen from the shadows.  


Nevermind. He would have told her. They were friends. Merlin had helped the druid boy without question. He would have shown himself to her as she confessed her deepest fear to him, of her terror. He would have known in an instant. That she had magic. Assuring her there was nothing wrong with her.

Except he had advised her to seek the druid camp. Not an admission. How had he known about the camp? It couldn’t be hearsay, he assured her she would find help there and nobody would have been foolish enough to talk about magic in Camelot. Not these days where the slightest whisper of magic, ended in death.

When she confided in him about the suspicion, she might have magic, he had averted his eyes, not looking directly at her, feet shuffling around. Had felt the stifling silence. He had invalidated her feelings, said she was imagining things only later encouraging her to leave.

“No.“, whispered Morgana, wide eyed and brows creased. In her mind going over every interaction the two of them ever had. Remembered the way he had looked at her after, she had shared her belief that magic was perhaps not something you choose, but chooses you with him.

Morgana trembled, couldn’t believe she had been so foolish. So naïve to trust him. Merlin had lied to her. Since he stepped a foot into Camelot. About the eloping of Arthur with Sophia, saying he had knocked him out and carried him back to Camelot. 

Something had felt off about it, especially with her nightmare, and she had known from the beginning not to trust Sophia. She should have trusted her instinct's not him. Morgana mindlessly bared her teeth, fists clenched.

So Merlin knew about her dreams or visions, had lied to her about them and about him, had betrayed her by not revealing the truth about him, had abandoned her with the terror, the assumptions she had. About magic and herself. Had blinded her to the truth. 

Attempted to manipulate her into feeling as if she was descending into madness. Merlin had said he was her friend, wanting to help her. He had done nothing but lie. Right in her face, his true intentions directly before her. Every word he said: Untrue.  


Morgana felt the heat rising, felt it devouring her, scorching up her throat. Her chest tight, blood rushing in her ears. Felt the ache, the rage overwhelming her. Had he become her friend under falsehood and trickery? Deceived her deliberately? _You can trust me Morgana. You know you can._ She could conjure up his voice after she searched frantically for Gaius in his chambers.

Remembered how frantic and owned by fear she had been. How she begged him to confirm her suspicions, needed to know if it was magic. She had hoped for understanding and affirmation she wasn’t imagining things.

 _I really wish there was something I could say._ It had been a blow then, and she had felt utterly crestfallen. Shaken and dazed. In retrospect he had all the chances to tell her. To confess, to relieve her from the dread she was feeling, to be the friend he said he was. She had told him how she thought magic perhaps was not something you choose, but it chooses you, never shown the contempt Uther or Arthur displayed for it.  


Looking back now, Morgana felt even more foolish. She had expected more of him, to be true to his words. She had believed to have found a loyal, trustworthy friend besides Gwen. Someone to speak her mind to, someone not trying to gain something from her.

She could visualise it, the moment he hesitated, the moment he lied directly in her face, the moment he abandoned her. Something broke in her, and around her too.

* * *

Kara watched Morgana. Morgana, who looked exactly like Lena. Same thick black locks cascading down her back, the same eyes, a mixture between icy blue and green, the same jawline, the same mole on her neck. 

Sure Lena always looked impeccable, even in her casual wear, when it was just the two of them and Morgana did not. Her hair was messy, tangled in knots, her grown and cloak torn up in places and grimy.

And she seemed emotional unstable. Lena had also her moments, like drinking too much and crying into Kara’s shirt when the weight of the Luthor name and sins got too much. On days like this Lena would only find solace after she fell asleep curled into her, twisted in many blankets.

Legs intertwined, arms enveloping her and the steady breathing on her collarbone, never failed to lull her to sleep too. The day afterwards, Lena would awake still soft and mellowed until she stepped out of her apartment and back into the world. Ready for another day of being the CEO of L-Corp. To be a Luthor under the scrutiny of the city.

Morgana seemed younger, softer around the edges. Albastar skin, a thin golden necklace around her delicate neck. Eyes conveying so much. First curiosity and tenderness. Loneliness. 

Like she was lost in the world drifting around without a safe harbour to stay. Some alarm bells had rung in her head, when Morgana had introduced herself, because she had read Arthurian Legends after coming to earth and Morgana le Fay had been an evil sorceress in some stories. Afterwards the barely concealed rage in her eyes.  


So as a golden glow extinguished the previous green eyes and a sudden elevation of temperature she worried a bit. And the barely noticeable shaking of the ground that mirrored Morgana’s own trembling. Or the pebbles hovering over a meter above ground.

Kara didn’t know what exactly had set the other woman off, but knew she needed her to stop more than ever as golden eyes glowed for a moment brighter and the campfire ignited in a spark. A spark that grew so fast until it was smouldering the darkness surrounding them, flashing orange and yellow and blackening the ceiling. A massive flame. Roaring and flickering. Twisting in an all-consuming dance. 

Gazing at Morgana it seemed as if it was mirroring her too. The sudden heat had sweat running down her back and her eyes watering. There was a buzz in the air like static, humming giving her goosebumps, and she shivered. With every inhale Kara felt the potent magic, could taste it in the air. It lingered heavily on her tongue, making her cough. 

Magic as in one of the things that could hurt her and in her state, her powers obviously blown out. Not the best situation to be in. Alex would kill her if she died.  


Kara contemplated Morgana’s face. A scowl on her features and a snarl on her lips. The paleness of before replaced by a heavy blush and a blank look on her face. Her eyes told another story. First Kara thought there was just blazing anger in them, but knew better.

There was always something behind the anger. Alex thought her intuitiveness in recognising emotions of other people came from her superior sense of smell, thus like a dog which mood could be influenced by his human. Kara wasn’t sure if it was true but alas she had more important things to clear up. Raging magical being and all.

Morgana wasn’t just radiating an aura of rage but of hurt. Agony shone in her eyes accompanied by a faraway look. She was panting, stomach sinking and rising, panicked. It trapped the other women in her own mind, overwhelmed with emotional distraught. Kara wasn’t sure what to do. Morgana needed to calm down before she burned both to ashes.  


Alex always hugged her, shushing her and quieting the world around her when it threatened to drown her, while when she comforted Lena it always took assuring her it was okay to be vulnerable to show her feelings and then initiating physical contact slowly and helping her to vent all her emotions, all her losses.  


Nodding to herself, Kara carefully shuffled to Morgana, biting her lip, facing her. Slowly she uncurled Morgana’s tightly clenched fists in her lap, nails digging into her hand, leaving red crescents bleeding on her pale skin. Rubbing with her thumb over them afterwards softly tracing up her arms, hoping she wouldn’t frighten her with any sudden touches. Up to her shoulders over her neck until she gently rested her hands on Morgana’s cheeks.

Eyes still unfocused and shining like liquid gold, stormy like the sea, mesmerising and unsettling in the way raw power danced in them. Ebbing in intensity. Looking at the fire, which still was flickering and roaring, but didn’t seem to get any taller at least. Tenderly she rested her head against Morgana’s and tried to be as close as possible without smothering her. 

Physical reassurance. Kara concentrated, Morgana was taking shallow breaths, what made her panic even worse. Coherent Breathing. A method the Danvers taught her, relatively quickly when her panic attacks and the sensory overload acted up randomly.  


Sometimes when she felt it sneaking up on her she could prevent it by doing her breathing exercises, but now and then it caught her unaware and only Alex steady heartbeat and her silently counting her breaths helped.

“Morgana? Can you breathe with me? Just focus on me.“, she murmured into Morgana’s ear, closing her eyes, counting to six to inhale and counting to six to exhale. Morgana twitched in her embrace becoming more conscious of her surroundings, breathing with her.  


Kara stayed, wrapping Morgana tenderly in her arms, feeling the air getting cooler and the cracking of the fire to quieten. Out of the corner of her eyes, she observed it finally die down, ground no longer shaking and no hovering stones. She let herself finally relax when the stiff form in her arms melted, Morgana desperately clutching her back, nails biting into her skin.

Kara ignored the sting, rubbing Morgana’s back as she buried her head in the crook of Kara’s neck, sobbing in her arms. Kara didn’t know how long they sat like that, she continued rubbing circles on Morgana’s back soothingly, and the other women still crying with minuscule whimpers between sobs that made Kara’s heart ache in sympathy. Morgana seemed lost and deeply troubled, but not like someone capable of hurting anyone.  


She felt a last shudder than Morgana untangled herself from her, crossing her arms, shying away from her gaze. Kara was uncertain what made Morgana close off herself after crying in her arms. Was it embarrassment?

Morgana wanted to be anywhere but here. Weeping in a strangers arms, loosing control over herself and then revealing herself. Afraid of what is occurring around her and helpless to stop it. No denying any more. She had powers; she had magic. Kara knew now about it. She had nothing to buy her silence, having helped her would not cut it. And where would she even go if she ran away?  


Morgana could never return, she would be prosecuted and sentenced to dead. Either burning at the stake or being hung. Uther always said for sorcery there is but one sentence-death. He would do it. _I made a promise to your father that I would protect you. But if you cross me again, I will break that promise without a second thought._ He was a madman, seeing everything magic as his enemy, nothing would satisfy his thirst for blood and having magic he would see it as crossing him again. After all magic was supposed to be learned and nothing to be born with.

“Morgana?“, looking up into Kara’s face, a kind smile painted on her lips greeted her.

“Why are you not afraid? I ignited a fire that could have burned us? Why are you not screaming about magic and what kind of monster I am?“, Morgana croaked in despair, needing to know why Kara just sat her and had helped her.

“You lost control. You didn’t do it intentionally if you had you wouldn’t have panicked after realising what happened. And magic is a natural force, isn’t it? So why would it make you a monster?“, assured Kara, a frown on her face. Natural force?

“Magic is prosecuted in Camelot. Uther rounds up everyone on the merest suspicion of sorcery. Men, women, children it doesn’t matter, they will execute you. The folk of Camelot learned to fear magic. They are full of hatred for anything magical.“, Morgana whispered defeated, pulling her knees to her chest.

“They are killed? For having magic? But that’s horrible, magic isn’t something you choose, and it’s not something evil. It’s always the choice of the wielder if he does good or bad? That has nothing to do with having magic.“

Morgana watched bewildered as Kara defended magic passionately. She had never heard someone speaking out for magic and here was an odd stranger, neither fear nor hatred in her eyes. Had she herself magic? Is that why she was defending it? Should she ask? Or would that be unrefined? Kara had seen her magic so it would only be fair to share if she had it. And she didn’t wish to be lied and to be fooled again.

“Do you also have magic?“, Morgana inquired trying not to sound too hopeful.Kara grinned bashfully, “I have powers.“, hesitating for a moment, “But not like yours, it’s not really like magic? “

“Powers? What are you capable of?“, curious Morgana leaned forward seeing nothing out of the ordinary about Kara except her garments.  
“I’m not exactly human more like an alien? “

“What do you mean not human?“ Morgana queried looking perplexed not comprehending the last word.

“Alien?“, Kara seemed to try to find another word for it, “You know about the stars right? “

“What have the stars to do with what you are?“, Morgana questioned, arching one eyebrow upwards.

“The giant stars are planets? You know about planets like-“

“Venus, Mars, Jupiter and the others yes?“, Morgana interrupted.

“I’m from another planet called Krypton. You can’t see it from here, If it even exists here, with me being maybe from a different universe. I’m not sure if it’s only another Earth or Universe. I’m Kryptonian. And the sun gives me powers here on earth.“

“You come from the stars? So you fell from the sky indeed. What kind of powers?“, Morgana inspected Kara, tipping her chin up questingly, seeing nothing inhumane about her and ignoring the other things Kara had said for now.

“You spotted me fall from the sky? When? Oh, I’m faster and stronger than humans, can fly, have heat vision and freeze breath and I'm mostly invincible.“, Kara smiled as she elaborated.

“Show me.“, Morgana never had seen anyone perform magic for something else as vengeance, or attempts in assassinating Uther.

“Yeah, that’s not possible at the moment?“, Kara scratched her neck nervously, “the fall must have blown out my powers. “

Morgana watched her doubtfully. She had been lied to enough, and she didn’t need another deceiver. Though the women had seemed truthfully and so earnest. Merling seemed so too. But Kara hadn’t run away the moment she had conjured the fire.

“Swear that everything you told me is true. Swear it to me upon your life and honour.“

Kara meet her gaze steadily, unyielding. “It’s the truth. I swear it.“

“And you truly think someone can use magic for good?“

“Good or bad, it’s always our choice how we use our powers. Just because some let their fear rule them or perceive it as bad, doesn’t mean that they are right. So yes if someone tries to be good, tries to do the right thing how could they be evil for something they can’t control.“, Kara sounded so certain, secure in her belief that Morgana wanted to believe it herself.

“Maybe one day people will come to see magic as a force for good.“, Morgana’s pale green eyes, glistening and open and sincere as they flickered between Kara’s searching. And Kara could hear another woman's voice, Lena‘s when they had first meet. _Make it a force of good. I’m just a woman trying to make a name for herself outside of her family. Can you understand that?_ Sitting behind her desk looking so earnest, sounding so hopeful like the woman before her. And Kara had understood as she understood the fear in Morgana’s eyes now.

Kara had feared her powers, after arriving on Earth, fearing she would hurt the people around her, after the Red K accident, hurting Alex the one she loved most, after murdering Non and the Rest of the Kryptonians, after finding out how far her parents went to 'protect‘ Krypton.

Lena also struggled with the Luthor name, even more after Lillian had told her she was a Luthor by blood. Fearing she might end up like the rest. Mass murderers in their belief they knew what was right. Remembered how torn up and devastated, she had been as she thought she had been the one poisoning children. 

Remembered her sitting in the too large grey National City University hoodie, the nearly empty wine bottle beside her. How she had curled into herself, exhausted of fighting. _Stop believing me, okay? I am not worth it._ How Kara tried to relieve her from the ache, how she wished to tame her demons for her.

_I know that you believe that everything is good and kind and that is one of the things I love about you._

The broken look in pale green eyes, cloudy from alcohol and hopelessness. Silky black hair cascading down over Lena’s shoulders. Some thought of her kindness as weakness, of naivety, but for her it meant believing. Unwavering faith in the people around her. To hope and foster the best inside every single one.

It left her often wide open for attacks, but she took every hit on her hope with a smile on her face. Most people on the edge just needed someone to believe in them. So she did. Most of all in Lena, because she was brave and compassionate, brilliant and always trying to help.

Lena had all the reasons to stop caring. To turn “evil“. How often was she meet with hostility or doubt? How often had her own family and others tried to kill her? How often had she been beaten down again and again only to stand up? To continue helping people. To save the aliens and National City.

Laying eyes on Morgana, she noticed the same. Regretfully she could understand the self-doubt, the uncertainty and offered her a warm, hopefully comforting smile.  


Looking around she couldn’t believe she found herself in another predicament. All she had wanted was her apartment and some peace and quiet and ended up here. What had she got? A dim lit cavern where loose stones littered the floor. Water ran down the walls forming puddles on the floor, fungus and moss proliferated in corners. Evidently the cave was inhabited showing clear signs. Like the campfire, the strange trinkets and barrels in the corners.

The universe really liked to screw her over. And Kara wasn’t even sure where she was. Morgana had said Camelot, and she had heard and read about it. Not as in an actual place, more like myths and legends? And she couldn’t be in the past of her own Earth right? 

Learning the history of a new planet, right after her own was destroyed, hadn’t been her top priority. More like fitting in, avoiding hurting anyone, hiding anything ‚alien‘ about her.  


But Alex would have totally told her if Camelot had existed alongside magic. Meaning she must have got knocked out of the portal into a new universe. Great, just great. The device she had from Cisco wasn’t on her anymore and she couldn’t jump Worlds like Barry. Nothing she could do.

Kal and Lois would alert Alex to her accident and hopefully Alex would find her and bring her home. Kara only needed to stay alive, which may be harder than thought with her powers blown out, hurt and being in an unfamiliar environment. So first order of business should be-her stomach growled loudly, reminding her she had eaten nothing in days. Was it days? How long had she been out-

“Here that’s all we have left. Some dried meat and detestable wine. Pray tell, will it be enough to sooth the ravenous beast.“, Morgana handed her to items with a grimace in her face and Kara felt the heat rise in her cheeks.

“That’s my abilities“, Kara stammered embarrassed, “They drain me of a lot of energy, healing too, so I need to eat more?“, she continued not looking at Morgana, fidgeting with the waterskin in her hand.

“There is no need to be embarrassed. You were asleep for nearly three days and on the verge of death. Unfortunately, that’s the last, we might need to wander outside of this cave tomorrow and search for something edible.“, Morgana assured her and Kara greedily ate up everything and tried to wash it down with wine.

Kara had never been someone for alcohol, at first because it didn’t affect her and then because it wasn’t responsible to let herself spin out of control. Everything that could happen just so she could cut loose. Nobody wanted an inebriated Supergirl flying around causing property damage and mayhem, no it would just give Anti-Alien-Activists more ammo against all aliens. 

Taking a gulp from the beverage hadn’t seem dangerous beforehand until she coughed and sputtered, spitting the foul tasting wine out. It made bile rise in her throat and left her wanting to scrape her tongue clean with sandpaper. Chuckling drew her attention and catching Morgana’s gaze, she stared at her pale hand hiding her mouth, shoulders shaking, mirth dancing in her electric green eyes.

“It has an acquired taste.“, Morgana a huge smile flickered across her lips, flashing her white teeth. It was so charming and enthralling, Kara didn’t even attempt to glare at Morgana instead grinning brightly. This was a hundred times better than seeing her crying. A lightness, so unguarded that showed how young Morgana must be. 

Contrasting with the way Lena always presented herself, head held high, confidence radiating from her and not a crack in her professional mask. Make up in her face like war paint and a dangerous smirk painted on her lips, daring the world to oppose her. Often the mask only breaking when Kara convinced Lena she didn’t have to bear the burden alone, that she had friends, a family she could lean onto.

Morgana seemed until now relatively untouched by loss, not yet to have learned to guard her heart and to mistrust, expecting the worst of everybody. Only in need of a good friend, a shoulder to lean on. And how she reacted to her own magic, someone who would guide her and someone who could understand her troubles.

Kara doubted with the impression, she had gotten that Morgana had trusted anyone with her secret. Imagining the Danvers wouldn’t know about her powers was unthinkable. Before Supergirl it had been stifling to hide who she was with them knowing, and without Alex, she would have never found a home again. Never would have survived the grief of her losses. 

Her sister who was there when she stumbled with the weight of her dead planet on her shoulders, exhausted of trying, of hiding. When being awake and alive demanded too much of her, so she laid motionless in the dark of her apartment thinking of reasons to get up, to go on, to live.

Alex always understood her, even when words failed her, by her side through anything. Loosing Alex or not having her at all was unthinkable, and it seemed she was a pleasant influence on Alex, seeing the other version of her. Something Kara had doubted for so long, afraid she had ruined Alex life with her arrival.  


Alex who was her home. Alex who made earth bearable. Alex who was eons and maybe light years away from her.

So Kara was determined to be there for Morgana as long as she was around. Not just to repay Morgana for saving her. Sadly Kara had no knowledge about magic at all. There were few individuals on her earth with the gift of magic, but she had never met them. Finishing her meal, she felt the exhaustion creeping in, her body demanding rest to heal.

“You should rest, you’re still wounded.“, Morgana assessed her concerned, helping her lay back down on the bedroll. " Rest. Tomorrow we must plan our next step.“

Kara smiled sleepily, already drifting whispered. “Thank you, Morgana.“, her eyes closing, breathing evening out.

* * *

Morgana contemplated the women. A woman that had fallen from the sky, with abilities and not opposed to magic. Magic she didn’t need to let confirm any more since she nearly burned Kara and herself without difficulty. And she didn’t want to think about Merlin, the betrayer. Just the thought of him, made her magic act up. Rage simmering. After all that happened the last day, she wouldn’t be returning to Camelot soon, if ever. 

And Kara had made no indication of her own plans. Would they travel together? Would they say their goodbyes and never meet again? Morgana wasn’t even certain where her destiny laid. Uther’s man would pursue every rumour, everything that could lead to her, and she wouldn’t have a say, no they would bring her back to Camelot. Back to Uther. 

Their food had run out, and they couldn’t stay in the woods forever. Neither of them was prepared. Morgana was still in a gown and Kara wore her strange garb. Everyone who spied her would instantly be suspicious of her. Outsiders weren’t invited with open arms in many villages. So supplies would be most important as were more practical attire for both.

Together they also couldn’t stay in Camelot, or the small villages around it, the chance to high of knights journeying through or a farmer selling them out for a few coins. The allies of Camelot may be not as ferocious in their pursuit of magic users, but none would harbour the Ward of Uther Pendragon himself. Not if they didn’t want to have the renown military force of Camelot knocking at their front door.

It was a known fact that some still had druids or sorcerer working for them, or didn’t persecute magical beings actively. Only ever one person had spoken out, calling out Uther’s tyranny, Queen Annis of Caerleon. For Uther, she was no threat, for one she was a woman and Caerleon had no large number of warriors. Caerleon may be a sanctuary for them. 

As Camelot had no Queen, Uther had early bestowed duties on Morgana. Handling the finances, organising the enormous feast and tournaments for visiting Kingdoms, being the hostesses for the wives and daughters of the nobles. Spying and spreading information to keep Camelot safe. At social functions and audiences, she sat beside Uther, giving advice if ever asked and helping strategies sometimes. When he was not threatening her with the dungeons for speaking out against him.

But one woman had been talked about a long time, Queen Annis. Her husband and been executed by Arthur for trespassing not a fortnight ago and there had been talk about her, gossip saying she sought vengeance for him. They had described her to Morgana, who never had the honour to encounter her, as a fierce, strong and courages ruler. The Kingdom Caerleon was at least a month long march away if they were fortunate and travelled swiftly. It seemed to be the best option and Morgana hoped when she presented Kara with her idea, she would approve of it.

For only knowing her three days, which Kara for was the most time unconscious, she wasn’t willing to part from her so soon. Kara might even help her search for answers. From what she knew about Kara know, she believed her to be just and gallant; she had sensed no fear in her, not before her outburst nor after it. More like a defiance, prepared for a fight but not seeking it out. Morgana was taken with this stranger, falling into these blue eyes, so similar to the sea and hiding mysteries and truths under the surface. The blonde had been truthful, just speaking with hesitancy and vague, leaving out. Kara had no ill intention towards her, but that didn’t mean Morgana wouldn‘t seek to uncover everything about her.

Loud, boisterous laughter and heavy footsteps could be heard, not far in the distance. Straightening up, Morgana grabbed her sword, listening acutely to the noises drawing nearer. Silently cursing, she shook Kara awake, shushing her grumbling. Blue eyes opening gradually, blinking disorientated up to her. Gesturing to the entrance of the cavern, she glimpsed understanding creeping on Kara’s face as she too heard the footsteps.

“Stay down.“, Morgana hissed through her teeth, getting up soundlessly and positioning herself to hide, pressed tightly against the wall, right beside the entrance. Looking back she implored Kara to stay on the ground. 

Morgana could at least distinguish four male voices, all having a heavy drawl, showing these men were not civilised beings. Them having the numbers her only hope would be to surprise them and bet on her agility. Maybe they would even falter when they realised she was a woman, giving her time to cut them down.

A calmness washed over her, one hand wrapped around the heft and one steadying the blade. The moment the first figure came into view, she struck out, her aim true. The man stumbled, not even able to gasp, falling down, bleeding out from where she had pierced his neck.

“What-, he is dead, someone is here.“, a man yelped, charging right in after the first one, sword drawn with the back to her. Not wasting a second she stepped behind him, kicking the backside of his knee and slit his throat.

“Intruder.“, pivoting around she found herself face to face with four other men, which had entered the cave. All armed with swords and one even wearing chain mail. 

“Oh, it’s a maiden, boys. The gods seem to favour us today, not only we have the booty, but can celebrate with a woman, too.“, one exclaimed, flashing a smile, with numerous of teeth missing. 

Snarling Morgana attacked the nearest one, evading his hastily raised sword to parry, stabbing him in the torso, before creating distance between the rest and her. Having more strength than her and being in the majority, she needed to stay out of reach and not let them encircle her.

The remaining men, hesitated looked at each other, before leaping at her. Parrying one attack. Side stepping the others. Feinting an attack and slashing at the unprotected side. Withdrawing. One overreached. Trying to strike her he became unbalanced. She struck him down, only to trip over her own gown. It gave the other two the opportunity to surround her. Both coming at the same time as her, she knew she couldn’t evade both attacks. 

She moved to parry one and prayed the other one would not leave her mortally wounded. She heard a gasp of pain, not her own and the man in front of her gawked at something over her shoulder. Mindful not to expose her back to her enemy, she pierced his neck with a clean stab as something distracted him. 

Taking notice of another struggling breath, she turned around. There standing was Kara. Tall, cloak falling elegant off broad shoulders, her head proudly raised, not a trace of a smile on her lips, glaring at the man in her grip. He struggled against the hand locked around his neck, holding him up in the air without visible strain.

“Kara?“, Morgana observed the inner struggle, the conflict in Kara’s eyes. Observing her Kara closed her eyes, exhaling, then snapped the neck of the man with a barley sensible movement.

“Are you all right?“, Kara inquired softly, eyes not leaving the dead men.

“I’m all right.“, Morgana replied, not asking the same question because every trace that the blonde had been wounded was gone. Where once had been scratches was now smooth unbroken skin. Would she unwrap the bandages, she would be surely met with unpierced skin. Kara had spoken the truth.  


And while Kara moved, there was not even a faint sign of anguish in her features or her movements. Hadn’t she seen the injuries, she would have never believed Kara had been hurt at all, but here was the confirmation that Morgana was right to trust her. No human would have made such a fast recovery. No one, even as muscular as Kara, would have been able to lift a fully grown man by the neck without strain.

“I thought your abilities had been drained by your fall?”, Morgana asked out of curiosity and because she tried to distract the other woman from her thoughts. In the way her body had gone rigid and her hands shook, Morgana could read the distress of having killed in the other woman. It had been a necessity for their survival but Morgana remembered the first man she ever killed still distinctly. It never got easier and her father had always told her that killing should never get easier. He had seen many wars and battles and witnessing. She believed him especially with how callous Uther watched executions and battles to the death. It showed what kind of man he was.

“The fear of dying kicked them back in.”, Kara said mindlessly, “What are we going to do?”

“We need to be inconspicuous. Supplies and other clothes and then we head for Caerleon.“, Morgana said as confidently as she could, sensing the need for reassurance and a battle plan in Kara. Morgana told her everything she knew about the Kingdom and convinced her it was for the best. 

Checking the dead bodies, Morgana found the loot the men had talked about. A few necklaces, rings and bracelets were the most valuable things in the pouch and in another bag she found four loaves of bread, more dried meat and a full waterskin. That may work for a few days if they rationed their provisions. Finding a water source was also necessary.

Nodding she inspected the rest, ignoring the smell of ale and awful body odour wafting from them. The one she had slain first seemed as tall as Kara, his garb wasn’t soaked with his own blood and not as tattered as the rest. Morgana’s gown wouldn’t attract so much attention as Kara’s.

“Undress him. His garments should fit you.“, Morgana advised while Kara looked at him with barely concealed disgust. Seemingly her sense of smell was also above average.

“He reeks like he hasn’t showered in years.“, the blonde complained, steeling herself before doing as Morgana said. “Could you turn around? “, Morgana tilted her head questionably not understanding why before Kara looked at her meaningfully. Blushing Morgana turned away, listening silently to the clear struggle going on behind her. 

“Is it supposed to be this itchy?“, Morgana faced Kara, and she was really a sight to behold. The black tunic sat snug on her shoulders and her arms, long-sleeved. Showing how well-built she was. It strained a little around the upper torso and reached till her hips. The brown trousers fell noticeable short, but the boots seemed to fit well enough. The attire would definitely help Kara fit in if it wasn‘t for her foreign red cloak.

“You can’t wear that cloak, it makes you stand out.“, Morgana pointed out, frowning at Kara, who shook her head.  


“It’s a cape, and it doesn’t look different to yours.“, Kara argued cradling the ‚cape‘ close to her chest.  
“I can see that it must be important to you but you must leave it behind. We can search for another cloak in the next village.“

“I can’t.“, Kara considered her for a moment, “It’s one of the last things left from my home planet and was once the baby blanket of my cousin.“ Morgana gave her the once-over, seeing the quivering lips and the wide glistening eyes of the blonde.

“Attention will be on you for wearing men’s clothing alone maybe the cloak will not make it much worse.“, Morgana sighed conceding defeat and the bright beam she got as a response was worth the risk.

“We should leave now. Dawn will come soon enough and it’s best we bring as much distance between us and Camelot as fast as possible. You should also grab one sword, wandering the woods unarmed is unwise. Pray to the gods, with our luck a hungry wolf or some other lurking creature will try to tear us apart.“, the last part she mumbled, not wishing to scare Kara.

“Wolves? And what other creatures?“ Kara regarded her seriously as she picked up a weapon.

“Many creatures roam the forest at night, one more frightening than the next. But I have a sword and when the sun comes out most will scurry back in their dens.“, Morgana explained calmly.

“My vision and my hearing are above average and I’m nearly invincible, I think we will be just fine.“, Kara replied easily not shocked at the slightest. Brightly Morgana grinned, and they stepped out of the cavern, ready for the journey ahead of them.


	3. Chapter 3

Kara knew she must look like an idiot, gawking at their surroundings. Breathing in deeply, the air smelled so pure, with no pollution, so different. From the drying grass emanated the smell of petrichor, a sign it had recently rained. Concentrating on her hearing, she could hear the surrounding wildlife, water rushing in rivers and small streams making its way through the woods, even more far away the sound of hooves meeting the damp earth. The ground was covered in excessive flora, most unknown to her.  


Dawn was approaching, the black of the night bleeding into a pale blue. There were no sounds of engines, or people, or a busy city in her hearing range. The only heartbeat of a person she perceived was Morgana’s, who stood silently beside her, letting her take the time to familiar herself with her environment.

Despite knowing she wouldn’t hear the familiar heartbeat, she had listened to for over 13 years; she strained her hearing for it, anyway. Only to be met with silence.

Kara felt the minor tremor in her hands. Head reeling with the knowledge, muscles tensing and relaxing ready to push herself up in the sky. Her heart beat, a steady Alex Alex Alex. Frantic and scrambling, she wanted nothing more than leap up in the air searching for her. 

But she already knew. Achingly. Kara wouldn’t find her, not hear her pumping heart, not see the hazel eyes sparkling with mischief as she relentlessly teased her, wouldn’t smell the sweet mix of coffee, vanilla, leather and gunpowder. 

Normally she would find her everywhere, there had been only one time she couldn’t. A moment she never wanted to remember. A moment she was again confronted with the mortality of the person that meant most to her. Her tether to earth lost.

Slowly she tuned back until one human heartbeat remained. It was a steady and comforting sound in her ear, thump thump thump. Reminded her she was not alone. Let her distract from what happened at the cavern or how she came to be her. 

Just the calm, the serenity of the wildness. The slight chill in the night air. Although she had seen the nature, more so in Midvale as in National City, there was a newness to it all. To see it untouched, unharmed by mankind’s hand as it was intended to be.

Lush green trees, taller and older than any she had ever seen, spreading over the whole area. The tree trunk of most of them were so gigantic, not even three people could grab around them. They easily stood long before she was even born there and would likely still stand after her death. 

How many seasons must have gone with them, roots deep in the earth, unwavering in the face of a storm. Tall, mossy vibrant green pines raising upwards to greet the sun and foliage trees, ancient oaks with branches fanned out wide. Overgrown by moss and ivy, and between them tiny bushes. Like an ocean of green, spilling over and filling any nook and cranny. It was so striking and such a contrast from Krypton.

Krypton had none nature left. They had used anything for the advancement of their race. All natural resources exploited until their planet couldn’t take the strain any more. Earth had been a surprise in how rich it was on life forms, and she watched mournfully as earth was wandering on the same path as Krypton. Uncaring of the consequences sight set on money and power.

Astra had seen it too. While she may have had the false methods for achieving her goals, she had the right intentions. Kara had understood Astra’s thinking to well and a part of her had been afraid because of it.

Myriad had been exactly the thing she may have constructed on Krypton as part as the science guild or maybe even have helped create Medusa to protect their citizens. Would never have questioned it. How many decisions just as bad as her fathers and mothers would she have made? Had she been older would she have helped in Krypton's downfall?

Leaving Krypton and their customs behind, learning about Earth and humanity had broadened her horizons, which had led to questioning her parents doings. It was true that Kryptonian’s had been proud and arrogant; it was only fitting how it was their own downfall. That was a part of why she chose to be a journalist. 

Digging deeper, seeking for the truth. Journalism was something Krypton didn’t have. What would have happened if they had? When someone could have warned their population early enough? Kara would never know. However earth still could be saved and being a journalist gave her another angle to help, to protect humanity. 

Some things couldn’t be changed by wearing a cape. She looked around, grounding herself. Whereas Kara’s Earth already was way down the path of destroying the environment, this Earth’s was still intact, still dazzling and marvellous with its rich colours. 

After Kara took another deep breath, felt the clean air in her lungs, she followed Morgana deeper into the woods. Should she tell her, she could fly? She had mentioned it in passing, having dumped that much information on Morgana. 

Sadly, from what Morgana had told her about Camelot, it would be a risk to use her powers carelessly. Somebody seeing them flying over the forest, would surely alarm the wrong people and while she didn’t fear being burned at the stake, she was fireproof, Morgana wasn’t. Or at least didn’t know yet.

Morgana had urged her to stay alert and to be ready for any attack, urged her to unsheathe the sword. She wasn’t even sure what to do with the weapon. Stab somebody? Wave it maniacally at somebody? No, when she had to fight, she would just use her strength and knock the assailants out. 

Maybe she should avoid being hit, swords breaking upon hitting her would be suspicious. So kicking ass on the down low. Or kill them if they had no other choice. Her cousin had the whole no killing code, and she tried to do the same, nevertheless sometimes there was no other option like when she had to fight Non the last time.

He had Truth, justice and the American way and she stuck to Hope, Help and Compassion for all. She knew sometimes killing was the only option. And she liked Diana’s principle best: _Don’t kill if you can wound, don’t wound if you can subdue, don’t subdue if you can pacify, and don’t raise your hand at all until you’ve first extended it._

Kara had felt so much guilt over it until Alex had talked with her about it, how sometimes soldiers had to kill and her own experience with it. She had given Non more chances to surrender than she could count. And Astra. Astra was another story. 

Remembering the metallic smell of blood, the gaping wound reaching from her chest to her hip. The struggle in her words and the pain as she admitted how she still saw her as family. The sound of the last draw of breath, the last beat of her heart. They had been deprived of a possibility of a family, of reconciliation.

Back on Krypton they had sentenced all criminals to the Phantom Zone. From petty crimes to capital crimes. Fort Rozz. Her mother had sentenced all the inmates. Kryptonians, Byrnians, Coluans and many more. To take a life the greatest offence to Rao himself so no death penalty, even for murderers. 

Their ancestors had meant the Phantom Zone to be a humane method of imprisonment. Meant to be. Not needing to eat, not ageing and watching the blackness of the universe, every day, every minute, and every second. No escape, no interaction between prisoners or guards. Only once thoughts as a companion.

Everyone imprisoned there had deserved prison time, some more, some less. An example had been Dr Alphonse Luzano. Drug smuggling to save his sick wife. Sentenced to 13 years. 

Many had already served their prison sentence and stayed longer in Fort Rozz because of Krypton's Destruction. It didn’t matter, not to the Master Jailer and not to the DEO. All Fort Rozz escapees had either been killed or imprisoned. No trail, no hearing, likely staying their lifetime in the DEO’s basement. She neither wished to imprison innocent aliens nor did she wish for someone to experience the Phantom Zone.

She had been stuck there for 24 years and often couldn’t shake it. The Phantom Zone clawed deeply into her flesh, marked her to the bone and had not let go. She had been in a sleep. Not stasis. 

After finding the pod, she had identified the parts for the DEO and had realised the component responsible for initiating stasis had been damaged either by the explosion of Krypton or meteors seconds afterwards. Meaning some of her nightmares weren’t just dreams but memories. From the endless darkness to the destruction of her whole planet.

Seeing behind her eyelids Krypton's Destruction again and again in her sleep. Watched the fire inferno consuming her planet, heard the explosions as she said goodbye to her parents. Despite her discovery she wasn’t sure what happened or was just her imagination.

The worst dreams weren’t the ones she saw Krypton explode the ones she stared at the endless black of the universe. Torn between wakefulness and sleep. Stuck in the pod, no wiggling room. Living in a coffin encompassed by the stifling stillness. Screaming and trashing. Suffocating in the blackness of space. Alone. Darkness filling her lungs like smoke, bearing down on her chest and burned when she tried to cough it up. It attached itself on her like a disease.

Kara still woke up with nightmares, still sometimes feared the darkness or panicked in tight spaces. Woke and for a single moment, thought herself back on Krypton. Glimpsed sometimes faces in a crowd so familiar, some reminding her of her friends and how they would have looked if they had have the chance to grow up.  


To take another‘s life had been seen as the worst crime, no death penalty existed in the judge system of Krypton but the Phantom Zone was in a way worse than death. Krypton had prided itself, acting high and mighty and above everyone else. Krypton burned. Kara was the only one left knowing it. Clark was more like a human with powers. He had been a Baby and all he knew about Krypton was from a program or a sphere. Krypton was a part of her, and she would carry it with her till her death came for her. As she would the bone deep sorrow of her losses.

Like the whispers of voices long dead, like the whiffs of smells reminding her of dishes and spices long lost. The alienness. Kara could fake being human, however she wasn’t. Small things, certain idioms, she didn’t know or big things like her superior strength. Which was caused by the weaker gravitational force on Earth. On Krypton she had no powers, had lived 13 years without them and then Earth altered her. Earth’s sun had transformed her.

Sometimes at dusk when the sky was dyed in just the right shade of red, for a breathless moment, she thought Rao was shining above, colouring the buildings and the people in his glow. Giving light and life. Reviving so many joyful moments. 

Of Astra teaching her the names of the stars. Of accompanying her father to work listening and joining various debates about science, the same blue eyes of her watching with pride in his eyes. Of meditating on the patio of their home under Rao’s watchful, benevolent gaze. Her mother sitting beside her, breathing in sync. Only for the sun to set, diminishing every similarity of Krypton and Earth.

In these moments the familiar buzzing of grief and anger, so constant and everlasting, sometimes easy to ignore, like fading out background noise and other times as penetrant as a wasp hovering near your ear. With the occasional sting directly in the heart. Then came the yearning to join her family in Rao’s light. To finally lay down and rest. To stop fighting and surviving. To hear her aunt’s laugh once more or run away giggling from her father as he gave chase.

Sun rise came, tinting the sky in shades of pinks and yellows, enlightening the forest. Animals left their dens, the chilliness replaced by the warmth of the sun rays. Kara eagerly rose to meet them, feeling her muscles relaxing. The light chasing away the dark thoughts.

Or Morgana, who looked lovely in the light of day. Even if her clothes were filthy and her hair tangled in knots, she looked divine lit by the sunlight. Her whole face screamed determination. Her black brows scrunched together, biting her lip, her eyes glinting, with previous overseen golden specks. 

Exuding resolve in the way she carried herself. Gone was the defensive raging and vulnerable side of her replaced by a regal gait. Kara was more than glad to see nothing burst in flames. Seeing what happened, she was sure that Morgana’s emotions fuelled her powers to a certain degree. In order to control her magic, which was essential, she would need to tame her feelings. 

Kara knew too well, how complicated it was to reign one’s emotions. Knew what happened when she failed. Broken things, broken bones. Inspecting her companion, nothing showed her prior melt down. The velvet red cloak billowed theatrically with every step she took, her head held high and facing forward, the sword clasped tight. 

No hesitance, no doubt showed as she strode dignified through the undergrowth. Everyone watching her would see her noble blood. To protect her if necessary, she fell into step with her because out of the two, Kara was the invincible one. Protecting Morgana would be easier if she wasn’t meters away from her. Morgana glanced at her briefly, yet with a gentle smile.

“Before finding you, I was headed for a druid camp,“ Morgana admitted.

“So they could teach you magic?“ Kara quizzed. Morgana would surely need a teacher with the amount of raw power she had.

“I merely thought of seeking them out, so they could answer my questions. Now I can’t hide myself from the truth anymore, their teachings may help me contain my powers,“ replied Morgana doubtfully.

“Learning about your magic is essential. I mean it’s a whole undiscovered part of you and if the druids can guide you, we should seek them out,“ Kara reassured, finding herself curious of other magic users. While Krypton never had something close to magic, science and logic was their way, she had heard about magic users on earth. One of them being Zantanna, which did magic shows and was an actual magician. From what she knew Zantanna spoke incantations to aim her magic.

“It wouldn’t cost us much daylight. Caerleon is in the same direction,“ Morgana added.

“So onward then,“ Kara joked, attempting to ease the nervous tension. Morgana raised an eyebrow amused, head slightly tilted to the side and nodded.

* * *

The first thing Kara observed was the smoke raising in the air ahead of them. Secondly, the strangled silence. Not the serenity she previously felt. Keeping her guard up, she noted Morgana doing the same, frowning, lips pressed in a thin line. Straining her hearing, Kara detected none humans in the immediate vicinity. With caution, they crept nearer until they had a view into the valley. The third thing she noticed was the smell of death and burned flesh. 

Beside her Morgana gasped, a hand shakily covering her mouth, her eyes taking in the nauseating sight. All around the valley laid broken bodies. By some you could even see from the distanced, black burned flesh. Her nose crinkled at the smell wafting up to them and a step from her Morgana covered her nose and flinch.  


There had been a struggle, tents still burning or torn down, belongings scattered on the ground. Appalled Morgana stood up, walking down into the valley and Kara followed her quietly. Men, women, children. Morgana had remarked they were killed for it and it was true.

Horrified, she looked at little children, pale, laying motionless. Some had still their eyes open, glassy, wide in shock and fear. Laying unmoving alongside their parents. The attack had been a surprise, the fatal wound by most of them had been in the back, as if they had tried to escape. The ground under them was soaked with blood and other fluids.  


A few of them showed to have tried to buy time, to hold back the assailant for others to flee. Only armed with sticks or simple tools, hoes and pitchforks, no match for the knights that cut them down. Knights with silver armour, massive swords and red capes with a golden dragon on them. A few of them had been slain with no visible wounds, Kara’s best guess was that they had been killed with magic.

Morgana stood in the centre of the destroyed camp, taking in the sight of destruction and death in front of her eyes. Revolted of what the mighty knights of Camelot had done. Killed defenceless, killed children. And for what? Because of witchcraft? Because surely they had planned a coup against the king. With simple clothing on their bodies, with tools used by farmers. No fair trial for them, no way to defend themselves. 

Dying drowned in their own blood, watching their parents or children be murdered in front of them. Morgana shivered. That would have been her, if she had made her way directly here, that would be her if Uther and the dishonourable Knights, guilty of these monstrosities, found her. Anguish spread through her. All of them had been alive not long ago implied by the blazing fires. 

Crouching down, she could see a petite black-haired girl, approximately five summers old, dressed in meagre garments. Her brown eyes glassy and her tiny arms clinging to a little poppet made of straw. Sickening, her eyes fell on the girl’s throat, that had been slit. A messy and brutally slow death surely handed by a knight trice as high from behind with one slash. 

Visualising how proud these men must feel at their return to Camelot. How they bested their enemies and saved Camelot because for them these people weren’t humans but monsters seconds away from murdering their families and their king. She could imagine the raised jugs of ale as they celebrated in caverns and how women would fawn over these heroes. Their stories of slaying these beasts and returning victorious.

Her inner turmoil spiked, evoking an uproar of magic inside her. Magic coursing almost violently through her veins. Overcome by the wish for retribution of every single fallen. Wanted to stalk to Camelot and dare those heroes to face someone, who could defend themselves. Lusted for justice. Desired to feel their blood running over her hands, to bathe in it. It was a sudden spike of rage and she trembled with the intensity it raced through her.  


A hand settled carefully on her shoulders, squeezing it comfortingly, before another hand delicately closed the girl’s eyes.

“I could have prevented this,“ Morgana muttered, nearly audible.

“This must have happened in the early hours of the night, there would have been nothing for you to do,“ Morgana glared at Kara, her eyes flashing dangerously golden, a snarl curling on her lips.

“I could have killed them, I could have made them beg for their death!“ Morgana seethed in white-hot anger, the surrounding fires flaring in response to her anger.

“You would have died with them. None of them were trained for a battle and I think not even you would have been capable of defeating a whole force of knights. No, you would have died with them if you had showed your magic or if not had been captured and brought back to Camelot. Tell me what could you have done?“  


Morgana tried to think of something, knowing logically that she couldn’t have bested all knights by herself and her unpredicable magic wouldn’t have been of use either. There must have been something to prevent this. At Morgana’s silence Kara continued solemnly.

“There was nothing you could have done. You are not to blame for what happened here. Those who killed them are,“ Kara’s voice was calm, uncompromising holding Morgana’s glare unflinchingly until the gold in her eyes shifted back to green. Morgana closed her eyes, calming herself to smother the rage inside her. To bury it deep inside her where it slowly extinguished like a flame without oxygen. Buried not forgotten.

Shaking and drained Morgana stepped closer to Kara, needing something, someone to hold on to. Not knowing how to ask for it, she hesitated. Since she left Camelot, no even beforehand Morgana had felt helpless and weak. 

Every time she had to follow Uther’s commands, every time she had to watch his cruelty and could do nothing. She already had wept into Kara’s shoulders once doing it again would be-, inappropriate. In Camelot Morgana had nobody to turn to for comfort. Her standing not allowing it. Except for Gwen. Even between the two of them had to be boundaries that couldn’t be overstepped. What would Gwen say if she knew about her magic?  


She knew Kara for not even a day and here she was seeking solace from a stranger. A mysterious stranger with abilities, who had been nothing but kind. Still for a moment she wished Gwen was by her side, her best and only friend, who would know just the right thing to say. 

While Morgana felt a peculiar closeness between Kara and her, which only she might feel, it would be improper to seek such physical proximity from Kara. The other woman didn’t seem to have such restrictions, so it surprised Morgana when Kara held her arms wide open. Even more surprising was how willingly she stepped into the embrace.  


Morgana wrapped her arms around Kara’s back falling into the hug as Kara gathered her into her arms. Easing into the warmth that radiated from her, Morgana could feel every ounce of Kara pressed against her. Her muscles went limp. Exhaling she burrowed her head in the smooth column of Kara’s neck. Kara squeezed her a fraction tighter, and it soothed her more than she expected. Her magic mitigated from the roaring of a lioness defending her cub to an annoyed meow of a cat that had been disrupted from sleeping.  


She felt like crying but her eyes stayed dry, not a single tear escaping her. She wouldn’t forget this, wouldn’t forget this pointless blood shed. These murders. Was sure the lifeless eyes would haunt her dreams for a long time.

“They have done nothing to deserve this,” Morgana whispered, questioning how a person could be filled with such hatred, to perform such atrocities. Envisioning Arthur striking down these people, hiding behind the excuse of serving his king. Arthur always seemed noble, often bigheaded and stubborn although never this cruel. Had he been here? Had he helped to do this? The same boy she had teased relentlessly through the years and bickered with? Arthur who helped them with Mordred?

“May they find the peace they never found in life.“

They didn’t stay long after that. Morgana was reluctant to leave the safety, she felt in the strong arms of Kara, but did so. The worst part was they had to leave, without giving the dead proper burials. They had neither shovels for graves nor the time. Camelot’s Knights could still be near, resting before riding back to the castle. So with a prayer they left the massacre.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey,  
> hope you enjoyed reading!


	4. Chapter 4

That had been four days ago, now the sun was setting yet again. Their supplies were running low, luckily for them they finally had stepped out of the dense woods and on a path leading to a small village. Morgana could see it not far in the distance. 

They both agreed it would be best to seek somewhere to sleep in the village and maybe trade or buy goods in the morning for their remaining journey. Although the sun was setting, many villagers were wandering around and many were looking at them curiously, falling silent as they stepped past them. 

Kara stood closely to her, both had sheathed their swords to appear ordinary, taking in the village and smiling brightly, genuinely the corners of her eyes crinkled, at the people passing them.

“Perhaps, I should be the one to arrange our lodging,“ Morgana suggested silently, leaning closer to Kara, watching the surrounding people. Kara stared at her confused, the sparkling deep blue darkening. Morgana hesitated for a moment.

“You have an exotic accent, use foreign words and you are dressed in garments for a man,“ Morgana whispered, assessing the woman beside her and added, “they are already inspecting us closely, and if they are to be questioned about me, we will be more memorable.“

Kara evaluated her words, scrutinised her surroundings and watched how fast the folks broke eye contact when she met their gaze. Staring at their feet and walking faster.

“You are right, I better leave the talking to you,“ Kara mumbled, scratching her neck.

Morgana headed straight for the tavern which she recognised by the music and drunken shouts coming from it, with Kara trailing behind her. Opening the door, she was met with the smell of sweat and ale.

The wood floor was filthy and creaked as they stepped into the house. It was bustling with folk. Nearly all tables were full, men drinking and sharing stories or playing card games. Cheerful and merry faces, red from drinking and shouting loudly from one end of the tavern to the other. 

Straightening herself she strode to the barmaid manning the bar, jutted her chin up proudly, not making eye contact with anyone. 

Arranging lodging for the night wasn’t hard after she showed several gold coins, so they got a room with a bathtub and supper. Taking the keys, Morgana wanted to revel in this small victory, only for a giant of a man, who was hairy like a bear and obviously drunk to stop the two. Blocking the staircase leading up to their room.

“Me and my friends,“ he gestured wildly to the table next to him, where three other men sat raised their jugs at their mention and continued slurring, “wanted to sit you down and have a laugh. It’s rarely we get to behold such a beautiful maiden.“

Struggling to form words, especially because the man easily towered over her Morgana took a step back surprised. Her back meeting Kara’s front. Nobody would have dared to be this brazen with their advances had they known her name. 

The chance of earning Uther Pendragon’s wrath had intimidated even possible suitors. He always been protective of her. So while she could handle herself in a sword fight and in the royal court the offer still caught her unprepared.

Finding her courage in the knowledge she wasn’t alone, she meet the drunkards stare head on, having to tilt her head up to meet his hazy gaze. They couldn’t risk any attention, so she chose her words carefully but assertive.

“Thank you very much for the offer, but my companion and I are weary from our travels and in dire need of rest,“Morgana refused politely, hoping the man would take the hint which he didn’t.

He stepped right into her space, trying to persuade her. Not even thinking about it, she reached for her sword, what he noticed with the movement of her cloak. Getting a glimpse of the sword, he blinked then considered Kara behind her, only to raise his hands placidly, backing and scurrying hastily away.

Nobody seemed to have taking notice of the short exchange. Without further delay they reached their room for the night.

Morgana was glad when she closed and locked the wooden door behind them. Leaning exhausted against it. 

For the first time in over a week, she was somewhere relatively safe, and this room tasted like a sweet indulgence after the dirty, ominous forest. They had spent every night with one of them on watch duty, not wanting to risk an unforeseen attack. 

Time and time again she had despite the bracelet on her wrist nightmares or had woken up afraid when she heard howling close by. They had been lucky enough to avoid stumbling into a pack of wolves or other humans.

When it was Kara’s time to sleep, if she slept at all, she also woke up profusely sweating and disorientated, calling out for an Alex. 

Crystal blue eyes dimmed and haunted flitting across her surroundings, not moving, muscles tensed and the vein bulging at her throat. Her voice rasping and desperate.

Her emotions so raw, so plainly on her face. Kara didn’t sleep again after such an occurrence. No, she would lay motionless, staring at the sky, mute with unmistakable misery.

Once Kara had shot up from sleep, chest heavily heaving with every inhale and exhale, hair sticking to her face. Her eyes a bright, eerie white, no pupil or iris visible. 

The skin around her eyes had flared red reaching down to her cheeks, veins showing underneath. For a moment Morgana had felt her magic instinctively rising as if to protect her from a strike which never came. Kara’s eyes just kept glowing more radiant than the moon in the sky, lightening up the forest slightly around them.

Suddenly Kara had focused on her and had lingered. Her eyes had been unreadable, but her tense expression had softened. Lena she had shuddered, the name sounding like a breathless prayer, every syllable falling from her lips with reverence. 

As though Lena was the light that could brighten the darkest night, as if she was the only safe port in a furious, storming ocean. The prayer uttered in devotion when raging waves crashed thundering against a Galley, mast hissing under the strain of the blowing wind. Hoping for salvation as salt water flooded the main deck, and Kara was one of the boatmen, who had to cling desperately to the railing. Scared of falling into the turbulent ocean.

The electrifying white had faded gradually back to her normal colour. Morgana had gawked captivated as the blond settled back closer to her and fell asleep not moments later. Leaving her awake with so many questions, but either the blonde didn’t remember or didn’t want to broach the subject the next day, so she held her tongue. It had left her unbalanced, wrong-footed. As had her whole escape and the revelation of her magic. 

And Merlin she thought bitterly. Now this scene downstairs. Had she overreacted? Had it been a harmless invitation? Morgana had been tightly coiled, on edge since she had bust the vase in her room. One step behind, fumbling and stumbling blindly towards her fate. It hadn’t drawn attention at least but better to be cautious. Fortunately, her instinctive reaction had been to clasp her sword and not her magic responding to the spike of uneasiness. 

Sighing Morgana stepped away from the door, taking in the place they would stay at. The room was barren, a small chair and table in one corner, a humble, ligneous bathtub and one bed. A candle stood at the table and Kara occupied the solitary chair. 

It groaned under Kara as she sat down, visible as exhausted as she was, and unstrapped her sheath and sword. Morgana followed the careful movements, as she did the same, folding also her cloak and put it down on the table. She moaned happily as she sat down on the bed, her sigh interrupted by a knock on the door.

Alerted she wanted to reach right away for her sword, but a reassuring look stopped her. Kara opened the room for two maids, one holding two buckets of water and the other one holding their meal. Kara smiled gratefully at them, instantly relieving the maid of her burden and putting the buckets down beside the bathtub, as the other maid placed the plates on the desk. With a murmured Good Evening both left as fast as they came ill-at-ease around them. 

Morgana was unsure why. Had they had seen the dispute downstairs? Or was it because of two women sharing a room with a singular bed? 

It was normal for royalty and nobility to have their servants or maids in a room adjoined to their own in case they were needed in the night. Morgana and Gwen had shared her quarters more often than not when she had accompanied Uther to other Kingdoms and numerous other occasions. Of course not in one bed.

It was not frowned upon generally, because it wasn’t unusual in the upper class, or warriors especially in Kingdom’s still living after the old traditions.

In their instance, filthy, one dressed in trousers and tunic, the other one in a torn up gown near Camelot where Uther had renounced the Old Religion it drew attention. Evidently enough to arouse suspicions of unchaste behaviour if not done surreptitiously, which they didn’t. Those engaging in such relationships were not prosecuted, surely it was frowned upon by many but there was no law forbidding them. Especially not in the Old Religion.

Nobility and monarchs could get away and even have known same-sex lovers. The only important concern was carrying on the family lineage. She didn’t know how it was handled in the lower classes but Morgana thought no one would trouble them, even if Kara had abilities, and she had a sword and her temperamental magic. 

Kara held out one plate for her and famished as they were the food was swiftly consumed. Afterwards they filled the bathtub with the cold water, which Kara heated with a flare of her eyes. Her eyes shining white like the one time in the forest, just with cerulean blue beams sparking out of her eyes. They met the water and when Kara stopped; the water was heated steaming up the room. 

Morgana couldn’t do anything but look admiringly at the blonde who blushed and shuffled nervously under her heavy gaze.

They took turns at washing themselves, rigorously scrubbing away the grime and the residual blood. It pleased both to be clean.

For a moment there had been an embarrassed tension in the room, because Morgana had no reservation in undressing and baring herself, accustomed to being bathed and oiled by servants. 

Embarrassment had only set alight her cheeks, spreading to her chest, as she had met the wide-eyed stare of Kara. Seconds went by with no movement and she was certain Kara’s focus roamed once or twice, feasting on the nude skin before catching herself.

Kara had squeaked, scrambling to cover her eyes and turning around, nearly tripping over the furniture in her haste to create distance between them. 

It had taken a while for her to stop apologising profusely and Morgana never had seen anyone turn as red as Kara. Even her ears had turned as red as a polished ruby gemstone. Holding up a halting hand and assuring her no harm was done, Kara had finally stopped her amusing rambling.

Neither could she stop the sly smirk from painting her lips nor how daringly her eyebrow lifted as Kara lifted her gaze once more. The blonde had even blushed further, not looking in her direction again until she was once more dressed. Then she had washed herself.

When Kara’s turn came, Morgana might have let her gaze linger at her nude, well-toned form, for far longer than appropriate, without an ounce of shame. Morgana didn’t know if it was ordinary for non-humans or for Kryptonians to look like that.

The sun-kissed skin exuded a subtle glow as if it was reflecting the sunlight. Kara had told her, her powers came from the sun so it could be possible. Kara had no blemishes, no birthmarks, no scars except for the one running parallel to her left eyebrow. No angry pink scrapes, no bruises, no sign of the wound in her stomach that should have cost her life.

Her strange blue and red garments hadn’t hidden the fact of how well-built Kara was, stretching over her broad shoulders and her arms tightly. Now bared to her gaze, Morgana swallowed heavily at the sight of finely chiselled abdominal muscles, at bulging arms, flexing as Kara sat down in the too small tub. 

Watched with a rapid thumping heart, taut muscles move under smooth looking skin as Kara cleaned herself. How her neck flexed as she rinsed her scalp.

Want arose unbidden, sudden inside her. It was a deep, physical feeling that couldn’t be ignored. Safe the first time in days it left time for her thoughts to wander. A shiver ran down her back. Craving to caress the exquisite form before her. 

Her hands ached at the thought of following the dripping water down as Kara stood up. At full height, standing in the middle of the low lighted chamber Morgana questioned, entranced, if the woman before her was a goddess, fallen from the stars. Because Kara was sublime. Just  
_otherworldy._

Her enticing aura, her bright dazzling smile, the blazing cornflower blue eyes meeting hers. Shivers ran down her spine, goosebumps forming with the electric tension filling up the room. Getting lost in her eyes, it was enthralling. Miniature needles picking at her insides, heat soaring and flooding through her body.

Desiring to touch, marvel and brush up daringly against the incarnated sun in front of her. Foolhardy wishing to know if it would burn her or if the burn inside her would persist only to blaze in an inferno at first contact.

Wet hair clung to the long line of Kara’s neck, framing her cheekbones pleasingly. Once dried it would surely outshine the sun. Her gaze raked down, feasting on sun-kissed skin, over prominent collarbones, fleetingly over her bosom, down to defined stomach muscles, further to show a V of muscles leading directly, sinfully down between her tights. 

Flushing she averted her gaze, only to meet slightly darkened blue eyes seconds later. Not able to to tear her eyes away.

Kara had under her scrutiny straightened her spine, standing to attention like a knight giving a report, like a flower blooming in sunlight, brazen despite her bareness, no sign of her previous blustering in sight. Proudly. 

Her knees felt weak, even though she was sitting, blood pumping and a persistent warm, ache spreading from her stomach lower. It hypnotised Morgana, trapped like a rabbit in a snare, her heart surely racing as one too. In particular, as Kara drew nearer, strutting in all her glory, a predator prepared to pounce on their prey. It must have been the most stunning and gorgeous sight, and she anticipated the moment, Kara was close enough to touch.

She barely restrained herself from rushing forward. Wishing to be close enough, so she could feel the heat emitting from her, card with her fingers through golden tresses, to touch and trace tenderly over the lines of hardened flesh. Envisioning Kara as her head was thrown back in pleasure, how her body would feel spasming under her own. Yearning for the slightest touch of their lips.

**SLAM**

They both startled, Kara automatically stepping back, focusing on the door and what was occurring behind it. A few raised voices, then shouts that got rapidly quieter. Nobody knocked. 

Morgana shook herself out of her scandalous thoughts. They had no time for such endeavours; she had to focus on keeping them both safe and hidden until they were far away from Camelot. She didn’t even know what came over her. She had known even with grime covering Kara that she was beautiful.

Yet such a reaction was shocking. Gwen, and she had more often than not talked about visiting nobles, over handsome knights, giggling and gossiping. Morgana even had flirted, entrancing boys expertly with a deliberate look, a flip of her hair or a smile. Men falling easily to her charms. Sometimes for fun, sometimes because it was expected.

Never had she been this enthralled by another person. Never wished for someone’s proximity or their touch. Didn’t visualise herself kissing and tracing with her fingertips patterns of desire over tantalising, bared flesh, of grasping the strong nape. 

Leaving possessive marks in her wake. Never thought about burying her hands in golden tresses, only for them to wander, grabbing her face and lightly, oh so lightly brush her lips across hers.

To kiss and nibble at her lips, to her jawline down her neck, sliding a hand up toned muscle. To be held in an unyielding embrace, pulling herself closer and closer, her nails biting into flawless skin wantonly. Shivers running down her spine as hands twirl through her hair and softly scratch her scalp.

Listening to choked gasps and moans, blazing blue eyes meeting hers as she descended with her lips lower and lower, coming hell and damnation nearer and nearer. Hungering for her taste on her tongue. 

Feeling herself throbbing with uninhibited passion, a heat radiating from between her thighs. Wishing to lose herself under slow movements of tender hands, of naked skin grazing upon her own. Indulging in the following sweet ecstasy. To-

A throat cleared besides her, chasing away her imaginations. Meeting darkened blue eyes, pupils so dilated the black consumed nearly all the blue. Getting a thrill of the effect she seemed to cause. She swallowed thickly, more blood rushing southwards. Head still reeling. She heard herself panting, noticed Kara’s nostrils flaring with every breath she took.

“Your magic,“ a breathless whimper. 

Had Kara seen the desire plainly written in her face? Did she know about all the sacrilegious thoughts running thru her mind?

 _Her Magic._ Her whole body was thrumming with restless energy like a hummingbird nested itself under her skin. All focus on the woman before her. _Her Magic. Her Magic._ Warning bells rang on the edge of her conscious. Her Magic.

Breaking eye contact she surveyed the room, only to see their cutlery, bowls and their gear hovering over the ground. Her head taking moments to catch up. The second she realised, was the second they clattered to the floor.

Morgana flushed, this time, in embarrassment. Again had her magic just slipped out, without her noticing. This was happening too frequently, her emotions running wild and her magic reacting. She needed to get a grip. Timidly she looked up to Kara, who had dressed in silence and smiled at her encouraging.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Morgana. You’ll learn to control it.“

“When? And how? What if something like that happens in public?“

Morgana fidgeted with her hands in her lap. Alone the thought petrified her, seeing herself being burned at the stake. Could already hear the masses cheering and screaming for her head. Could imagine Arthur standing proudly beside her father as they talked about the falsehood and betrayal from her. 

To have learned magic to repay the kindness and generosity Uther gave her for taking her in. Surely Merlin would stand behind Arthur, doing nothing as she burned before him.

Morgana startled as her hand was delicately encompassed by two warmer ones, a thumb rubbing in circles over her knuckles. Kara had kneeled down and watched her.

“I‘m not saying it will be effortless. Maybe I can show you how I was taught to adjust to my powers,“ Kara assured, hoping to bring comfort. To help in any way possible.

Morgana considered her intensely, wanting to believe her but still apprehensive. She slowly nodded, letting her forehead lightly for a moment rest against Kara’s before pushing herself up. Creating distance to clear her mind.

“We should plan for tomorrow. We need supplies. Fresh clothes, food, maybe bedrolls. A horse might be better to get away faster from Camelot but I think our money will not be enough to provide for on. We have to be on our way as fast as possible. Especially because village folk loves to gossip. My disappearance has been certainly announced by now. It is imaginable that someone might recognise me. If the word was to get back to Uther about my sighting, we would have nearly all unneeded knights of Camelot on our heels,“ Morgana explained, walking up and down the room erratically.

Kara only nodded, contented to cede the decision-making to Morgana.

“We should sleep, we will rise with the dawn. We have no time to spare.“

Kara fleetingly glanced at her and the onto the single bed in the room.

“You can have the bed,“ Kara proffered. A lovely pink spreading on her cheeks.

“The floor is filthy and hard. We might fit both onto the bed,” Morgana countered.

   
Only for her own cheeks to darken with a heavy blush. The words falling from her mouth faster than her mind could think of the implications. By the gods.

This was bad. Her head was still reeling from before and as her knees bounced up in down nervously, she could feel the wetness coating her thighs. Mortified, Morgana didn’t even look in the vicinity of Kara.

Earlier thoughts only resurfacing with the thought of the other woman laying down with her on a bed. Nails digging into the palms of her hands, restraining herself. Pulse rushing, viewing in mind’s eye bronze muscles jumping and shuddering under her touch. Shaking her head hoping to chase away these images.

“Are you sure? I can sleep on the floor.“

“I’m sure. We both need to be well rested for tomorrow.“

Kara contemplated her for a few more seconds, Morgana held her eye steadily. Not wishing for Kara read her inner turmoil in her eyes. Shrugging Kara conceded, extinguishing the few candles, while Morgana pulled back the duvet and slipped into bed. Getting as close to the wall as possible. 

Holding her breath as Kara slipped in beside her. The bed so small, their arms and legs brushed, Morgana tensing with every touch. Kara radiated warmth and Morgana considered if it had to do with Kara not being human.

“Goodnight,“ Kara whispered.

“Goodnight.“

She could see Kara was already falling asleep, her eyes dropping. Her own earlier exhaustion nearly forgotten, nervous energy still running through her veins. Morgana didn’t think, she would fall asleep quickly and a tiny part of her feared nightmares, or visions, know her magic was running wild. Or thinking about her sudden impure thoughts. Making her even more jittery. Thoughts running wild with so many questions.

“Who is Alex,“ blurted Morgana out. Kara’s eyes opened in an instance again. Mortified, she stilled. Letting Kara decide if she would answer.

“How do you know that name?“ She felt Kara stiffen and already regretted asking. Not knowing why she even asked. Her tone was not hostile, but not friendly either more protective.

“When you were asleep, you sometimes called his name.“  

“Her,“ Kara looked away and seemed to curl into herself. 

Even only with the moon lightening the room, Morgana could see the sorrow in her features. Kara seemed to start saying something, only to not do it. Mouth opening and closing without a sound. Morgana was ready to take it back, to forget it and just go to sleep as Kara answered. Perhaps not wanting an answer after all.

“Alex is my sister from back home,“ meeting her gaze once again, “she is the most important person to me and I don’t know who I would be without her. I know it must sound stupid, but I miss her. I left to help a friend, without her and now I‘m here and don’t know when we will see each other again.“

Blue eyes watered, a single tear running down her cheeks. Morgana reached forwards, wiping it tenderly away, her thumb lingered, stroking gently over Kara’s cheek. She felt remorse for causing the tears but also unexplainable relief. 

“Forgive me, I didn’t want to cause you distress.“

Kara shook her head, “You didn’t. It’s just hard to wake up without hearing her heartbeat. With the knowledge she is so far away from me.“

“I can’t imagine how hard this must be. Is she like you?“ Morgana hesitatingly inquired, afraid to hurt Kara unintentionally.

“No. She is my adoptive sister, completely human. Her family took me in when I was thirteen. She is my hero. She saved the world more than once. I don’t know what would have happened if I hadn’t met her. She is always there for me, fighting alongside me, protecting me and I‘m just hoping I give her as much as she has given me,“ the love laced in Kara’s words was palpable. 

As was the content smile on her face, thinking about her sister. Kara was a Ward like herself. And Alex must be extraordinary, if Kara who had powers, called her a hero.

“I’m certain that you are a great sister and Alex loves you very much. You will see her again,“ Morgana assured clasping the hand nearest to her.

Morgana decided she would do anything within her power to make that happen. Kara’s presence had helped her more than she could articulate. 

Although a part of her wanted to ask after Lena, Morgana led it slide even as she burned with curiosity. In the meantime Kara had nearly melted into the bed, eyes again closed. Morgana didn’t release the hand in hers, drawing it nearer to herself, deflating. Ready to succumb to her exhaustion now. She felt herself nearly drifting off, only to jerk back awake.

_Hearing her Heartbeat_

Kara could hear heartbeats? Her Heartbeat? Did that mean, a moment before, she had heard Morgana’s heart racing?

If she could hear it were her other senses sharper than humans, too? Oh, by the gods. Mortified Morgana laid awake. Hoping the gods would strike her and just release her from this shame. How could she ever met Kara’s eyes again? How could she sleep with the other woman so close to her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey,  
> thanks for all the comments!  
> Hope you enjoy the new chapter and until next time. :)


	5. Chapter 5

Warmth. Morgana roused slowly from her sleep, bathing in the sunlight she could feel shining on her face. She yawned, not even opening her eyes, ready for another bout of sleep. 

Enjoying the tranquillity of the morning, stretching languidly, only to prod against something soft. Confused and grumbling, she nudged the body behind her. Slowly the steady puffs of breaths on her neck rose to her attention through her sleep addled brain as did the arm under her head and another flung over her waist. Hand resting on her stomach. 

Kara. Now aware of her, Morgana sensed her. Kara must have in her sleep, moulded herself to her back, not an inch of space separating them. A faint pink blush dusted across her cheeks. Kara’s whole body was pressed against hers, still asleep. She didn’t know what to do; she was woefully unprepared dealing with such an occurrence. 

The sensible thing to do would be, to move away, rousing Kara, and start the day before they lost too much daylight. But Kara’s presence seemed to settle her in a comforting way and she wanted nothing more than fall asleep again in her tender embrace. 

Borrowing herself closer, for warmth only, she felt even with the sun shining in her face the chilliness of the room. And being tightly gathered in Kara’s arms, kept her deliciously warm. Morgana never had slept this close to another person. Never had felt this at ease around another either.

Grounded and comforted. She had Kara known for a mere amount of days and here she laid next to her. Forgetting all propriety a sophisticated woman they raised her to be should have. Was this closeness because they knew each other’s secrets? Stayed Kara with her because she had saved her? No, that couldn’t be it.

Kara had spoken truly since they had met, answering her questions the night before honestly, was genuine in her care and worry. It touched something buried deep, filling up the hollowness of her loneliness inside her. 

The thought of genuine, mutual companionship excited her, beyond words. Someone she could turn to, speak her mind, someone who would have her back in fights, and she would hopefully provide the same. Perhaps this someone was Kara. 

Perhaps the old gods had fated them to meet. Albeit it was a silly, naïve thought, she hoped so. They both had their burdens to carry and Kara needed to be reunited with her sorely missed sister. But first they needed safety for any long-time plans and arrangements.

Exhaling deeply, she slowly blinked the sleep out of her eyes, squinting at the blinding sun. Disgruntled in the face of their reality, that they had no daylight to spare, she raised herself sullenly to a sitting position. Stretching languidly and yawning once more, shaking of the left over exhaustion like a dog shaking the wetness out of its fur. Blinking at her companion, her heart seized for a heartbeat. The sweetness of the woman before her was heart-warming. 

She had been right, dried and accented by the sunlight, everything paled against these golden tresses. It looked lovely and inviting and she wondered if it was as soft as it seemed.

The worry lines were smoothed out, Kara’s face completely at ease, pink lips slightly parted. Recognising, now aware of her surroundings the adorable snore no longer escaping her. Kara seemed to sense the lack of presence of another person beside her, her eyebrows scrunching together for a moment. 

Thinking she might wake up, Morgana straightened hoping not to look too dishevelled, running her hands through her hair as good as she could, only for Kara to curl tighter around the blanket and continuing sleeping peacefully. Sighing, she got out of bed as silently as she could, put on her gown boots, she softly padded to the door. Getting up for the first task, arranging breakfast. 

Which was easily done downstairs and the counter a round-faced, middle-aged women greeted her kindly. Not the slightest alarmed by the kids running around her back, causing mischief in the kitchen. The women provided her with bowls of food and ale, sending her off heartily as she told her, they would depart soon afterwards. 

Still, ill at ease, expecting to be recognised or attacked, Morgana left quickly, breathing out with relief as she closed the door of their room behind her. Putting down their meal on the desk, she turned around to Kara. They had to head out, so she had to wake her. No matter how charming the sight was.

Normally Kara would easily rise with the sun, not needing to be shaken awake. And the times Kara had to wake her, the soft call of her name had easily awoken her. Her mind even in sleep alert. 

Just currently Kara didn’t look like she would wake up anytime soon on her own free will. Thinking Morgana drew closer, not sure how Kara would react to being shaken awake, conscious and apprehensive of Kara’s powers and how they might subconsciously respond. Like how her own magic reacted instinctively.

Steeling herself, readying herself to step back or duck, she reached out softly, grasping a broad shoulder and shaking it with a murmured Kara. Nothing. Attempting it again, she was greeted with a sleepy grunt. Shaking more forcefully, there was a slight pause the snoring afterwards continuing steadily. 

Getting slightly aggravated at the lack of response and the nervous energy rising inside her, she shoved again. Kara displeased groaned, gibberish sounding words falling from her lips, curling tighter around herself. Forget it. Frustrated she pushed Kara with all her might, putting all her weight behind it.

It felt like trying to move a frightened horse toward a threatening snake, surely even harder to manage than a single horse. Puffing at the strain and silently fuming, air sizzling, she touched Kara’s bare shoulder again. Her hand meeting the soft, bared flesh. 

She felt a quick spike of energy focusing on her hand and a spark passed from her to Kara. Her victim jolted awake with a jerk, up in the air, just barely stopping before her head went through the ceiling. Hovering over the bed, hands raised defensively.  Eyes still partly closed and cheeks puffed up.

Morgana might have been scared or impressed by the display of power, but all she could do was letting out an inelegant snort that turned in a full-blown laugh. Kara floated over the bed, looking dishevelled from sleep, eyes squinting heavy with tiredness, attempting to look intimidating. 

With a pout on her lips that only got larger at her laughter. Rubbing her eyes, stumbling slightly as she landed back on the floor, she looked more like a baby deer or a foal taking it first steps than a goddess. Grunting unhappily at being awoken at all and in such unkind fashion.

Kara yawned, furthermore stretching her stiff muscles, Morgana’s laughter stuck in her throat. Kara’s shirt had ridden up and revealed the slightest sliver of tanned, toned stomach to her eyes. Morgana only breathed once more after it slipped down again, hiding the godlike form poorly from her. Once again she felt an inkling of yesterday’s temptations flow through her tinged with magic.

“Morning,“ voice rough from sleep, blue eyes finally becoming alert. 

“Good Morning.“ Morgana surprised herself with her own chirpiness and inspecting Kara she seemed too, glaring half-heartedly at her, making her grin even bigger. “I believed you to be someone, who rose with the sun, like the chirping birds.“ Her eyebrows arched amused by the sight before her.  

“Mornings are evil. Why rise with the sun, if you can stay in bed all day curled under blankets,“ Kara grumbled. 

Grinning Morgana set down at the table, pointedly staring at Kara and her bowl, reaching for the spoon herself.  
“Perhaps some food will help improve your mood.“ 

At the mention of food, this time not Kara grumbled, but her belly ravenously and with a speed she could not comprehend the bowl in her hands had vanished. Reappearing empty. Morgana sat and glanced awed at the bowl, then at Kara, who smirked. 

“No, I think our first joint task as a force for good should be to abolish mornings. I mean evil so it’s our civic duty as heroes to get rid of them.”  
Morgana scowled, then chuckled at Kara’s childlike, ludicrous response and reached for the other bowl. Enjoying the casual display of powers, reminding her that Kara was at ease around her too. Who had thought the personified sunshine loathed mornings.  
“My, my someone is touchy in the mornings.“ 

“You should eat, after all we have so much to accomplish today,“ replied Kara fake haughtily and scrunched up her nose.  
Shaking her head, keeping silent Morgana eat her fill. The rest she left to Kara, who seemed to devour more food than a fully grown man. Also, a situation she needed to address and plan accordingly. 

“How much food do you need to consume in a day?“ Morgana inquired, noticing Kara’s answering fidgeting and how she weirdly grasped her nose for a second.

“10.000 calories a day?“ Morgana just tilted her head in question. “A lot more than a fully grown man? My powers burn through them, but even if I don’t use them, I need plenty.“ Kara confessed averting her gaze.

“You have eaten little since we meet. Are you starving yourself? Are there side effects of famine for your kind?“ 

“I mean-, in a way? My powers might slowly shut down and I‘m getting lethargic? But we have no money or food to spare, so it’s no problem? I’m just not going to use my powers carelessly, like just then. I can go quite a while longer than humans without food, so no?“ Kara reassured, nodding along to her explanation, her hands wildly gesticulating. 

“That won’t do. I won’t have you harming yourself. When we buy supplies, we look for filling food and money is not yet a worrying matter. We have also still the bounty.“ 

Standing up Morgana laced her belt and tucked her sword and dagger in. Sweeping the room, making sure they had all their belongings. Downstairs she gave the keys the same woman as before, nodding along to her directions to the nearby villages, before bidding her farewell. Kara stayed quiet, following her out of the establishment. 

Outside the sun shone above them, few people stumbling around. Most already working on the surrounding fields. Head held high, she marched to the modest trading place of the village. Surveying the stalls for goods they needed. Folk cautiously moved out of their path.

Firstly food. Purchasing a great amount and two satchels to carry it. The vendor had glanced curiously at them, especially at Kara, but the gold coins took his attention away quickly. Kara, neither made eye-contact with her or the surrounding people. 

A heavy contrast from the day before, where she had smiled brightly at everyone, emitting friendliness like perfume. Ignoring it for now, they avoided swiftly being run over by a pack of giggling children, playing catch and a few boys rough housing. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Kara basically vibrating with excitement as if she wanted to join in, but restraining herself. That seemed more like the Kara she was getting to know.

Next on tools. After all, they would stay many days, weeks possibly on the road. She got ropes, for climbing and snares, two bed rolls together with a pot for cooking, candles and flints. 

Last stop was clothes. The woman selling them had many roughly made, plain looking garments. Practical. Instead of going for a gown, she chose breeches, that were wider on the hips and held with a cord. In her mind’s eye Kara’s long bared legs flashed, and she pushed it back resolutely.

Nevertheless, she searched for the longest trousers she could find. Shirts were a bit harder with their torsos. Socks and boots, shifts and two rather thin vests to wear under their cloaks found also their way on their pile.

The woman gave her another weird look, but took the payment. Unpleasant tension rising. Suddenly a startled gasp and an _"Oh Rao"_  as a body hit the dirt, interrupted her staring contest with the vendor.  Morgana spun around, prepared to draw her sword. Kara sat on the ground, seemingly unharmed, trying to keep a shaggy beast at bay.

It was scruffy looking, either brown or grey, its fur covered in mud and therefore indistinguishable. Briskly stepping forward, wanting to intervene, she was startled by the appearance of the now even more giggling children. Kids pointing and roaring with laughter at Kara’s misfortune. 

Kara seemed to startle too and for a moment softened, only for the hound to slobber all over her face. Disgusted she watched, hiding her own amusement at the situation. A mortified man stepped forward. While Kara had submitted and petted the hound happily, cooing over it with _such a good boy_ , stopped trying to turn her cheek away.  

The man stuttered apologies after apologies trying to grasp the hound by the neck, pulling it off. It woofed unhappily, whining until Kara, who waved the apologies off, followed it kneeling and resumed her patting.

“No harm done. He is beautiful, what’s his name?“ Kara wondered eagerly, dusting off her clothes at the same time. The man stopped reprimanding the creature and looked down into Kara’s expectant face. He flushed a heavy red, rubbing his equally red neck. His hands shaking noticeable.

“Col, M’lady,“ he stammered, thinking Kara was from noble birth. Fidgeting with his clothes and his gaze nervously darting around. Morgana now stood directly beside Kara, but was only spared a fleeting glance. His focus was on Kara and Kara’s focus was on the hound. Still kneeling and enthusiastically stroking the panting animal.

“Col, what a handsome name, for such a handsome fellow,“ she rubbed its belly. Morgana had to suppress her laugh and settled on smirking at the young man, who gaped speechlessly for a second.

“Col is my name M’lady,“ Col mumbled, which Kara heard sparing him a glance.  Meanwhile, the children snorted holding their bellies running only away as Col glared at them. Not before poking their tongues out and a bout of for giggling.

“Oh, pardon me! What’s his name?“ Col’s face fell at Kara’s indifference in him but replied. 

“Bo, M’lady.“ The incident greatly amused Morgana. Col was hoping for Kara’s attention, who was way more engrossed in the creature or deliberately being obtuse. Alas, tough luck. Morgana was even more pleased at how quickly she had full Kara’s attention. 

“Kara, we have everything we need,“ electric blue eyes sparkling with excitement over her new friend found hers.

“Oh,“ she pouted slightly, but bided Bo (a long goodbye, scratching him tenderly behind his ear) and Col (fleetingly) farewell. 

Morgana gave her one satchel and her garments. Leading her out of the village she watched Kara glancing back at the hound, waving at the children. Gazing at Kara‘s cheerful side profile fondly, she contemplated Kara’s demeanour. 

Had she not realised the man’s attention or ignored it? Probably the first with how taken she was with the hound. Or had a man already courted her? She wore no ring, indicating she was not married, but she still could have a dalliance. Her stomach knotted up at the thought.

“Set for the next leg of our voyage? We will change our garments once we are out of sight,“ Morgana worried, pushing back her restless thoughts.

“I am.“ Kara beamed at her, eyes resolute, finding her hand and squeezing it comfortingly. Morgana already felt the heat rushing from her hand to her face once more. Nodding they made their way, while her heart raced, even more than she remembered last night’s revelations and just hoped Kara wasn’t listening to it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Hope you enjoyed reading the new chapter. Has anybody heard that supergirl might get cancelled? I mean I stopped watching mid season 2 because of Mon-El but don't want it to get cancelled. Espacially with the Lames break up and Nia Nal Season four might get me watching it again. The worst thing maybe Supergirl gets replaced by a new SUperman series. Like there are not enough movies and a series about him. Or as if the whole DC TV and Movies don't lack on female represantation. We will see and sadly One day at a time and Wynonna Earp are also in danger of being canceled. Sorry for the long end notes.  
> Until next time! :)


	6. Chapter 6

“I see them! There follow me!“ The war cry tore through the otherwise silent forest. 

The pounding of hooves on earth got louder. Panting Morgana stumbled over a tree root, losing balance, only for the hand in her grasp to tighten, preventing her fall.

Straightening herself, she pulled her in the opposite direction, hoping for more cover in the trees. Her lungs burned from running, her legs felt as if she was dragging stones behind her.

“There!“ Shouted one knight.

They were gaining too much ground on them. Panicked she caught the gaze of Kara, who seemed to have realised the same. 

Blue Eyes. Like the ocean. Looking at her with a clear question. Clenching her teeth, no baring them in challenge, she twirled around. Facing the threat head on.

* * *

Hours before, they had after days finally trotted into another larger village. Their food supplies were once again non-existent. 

After Kara had informed her about her healthy appetite, Morgana had kept her well-fed. Setting snares every evening spent in the forest, even showing Kara how to knot them in case they got separated.

Kara had learned quickly, and it had pleased Morgana the first time they had caught something. It had been a fat, grey furred hare with enough meat, they wouldn’t have to worry about food for at least two days.

She had unsheathed her dagger, preparing to end its life. A high squeak and a hand grabbing her dagger had interfered.

“What are you doing?“ Kara stared at her then down to the struggling animal. “The poor creature is obviously scarred, I can hear its tiny heartbeat racing.“

Morgana glanced confused at her, following her sight. “Killing it? So we can eat it?“

“Killing it, Eat it? No, no,no.“ Kara made herself bigger, hiding the hare behind her, still trapped, stretching her arms out to both sides.

“What did you think would happen? Kara we are desperate for food, I wouldn’t kill it if it wasn’t necessary. I have seen you eat meat before my own two eyes.“

“But I saw none of them die. And look at his or hers little face and these cute, long ears. Or the adorable whiskers. What if he or she has a family? Has a mate and children. Or needs to feed them? Then teeny rabbit babies will die too and-“

“Kara! It’s a rabbit. I don’t enjoy it either, but we are trying to survive.” Morgana rubbed her head tiredly. “I apologise. The next time, I’ll go alone, so you won’t have to see it.“ Morgana interrupted, rubbing Kara’s shoulder soothingly. 

Hoping to prevent the tears welling in Kara’s eyes from falling. Her behaviour might perplex her, yet Kara was a gentle soul. 

Leaning closer, she lightly rested her forehead against Kara’s. For a few moments, they breathed together, listening to the idyllic quietness of the forest, until Kara calmed, melting against her.

“Can we let him or her live this time?“ Kara whispered, not meeting her gaze, touching the bridge of her nose nervously and dropping the hand in her lap. “I can eat less today and the next to make up for it? I just don’t. I can’t-“

Contemplating the woman in front of her, being met with the watery look and a pout, she could do nothing but nod. “All right. Just this time.“ 

Kara squealed hugging her tightly, stroking her back, afterwards lightning quick, freeing the hare and cooing at it, settling it on her lap. 

Her head was still reeling, her throat to dry to form words. Not able to comprehend, Morgana shook herself out of her stupor and instead just enjoyed Kara petting the animal.

A short while later, she let it hopple away and even waved it goodbye. So endearingly. That night Morgana halved her own ration and gave it to Kara.

There had also been her first magic ‘lessons‘. Kara led her through different exercises, which helped her with her own powers, showed her breathing techniques and set challenges. Bringing a small pebble to hover. 

Right next to her had burned the warming fire, she had sat cross-legged on her bedroll staring at a stone. Focusing on it and waiting for the tingling feeling of her magic. 

Days seemed to pass that way without the stone even twitching. Her frustration had built and built, irked by her own incapability, until one night with boiling anger through her veins, their fire had blazed and smouldered nearly all their belongings.

At least the breathing exercised helped and extinguished the flames quickly. Kara had looked quietly for a moment.

“You’re quite magical,“ Kara had snickered, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “That’s definitely progress. Look you can do it.”

Morgana had been speechless, furthermore as Kara proposed to stop trying with the pebble and trying to adjust the intensity of their fire. Reassuring her she could extinguish if needed. 

Perhaps the druids could have given her more efficient instructions, yet at least she was getting somewhere with her magic.

Alone here. In the forest with Kara beside her. Training her magic, without being afraid to hurt someone or be hurt by someone.

It was liberating. Not to be longer under Uther’s orders. She no longer had to follow etiquette. Not longer being in the suffocating castle, in fear of being exposed every single moment spending there.

Now she spent the days wandering the lands, sharing about the castle life or listening to Kara reminiscing of her home planet. 

She skimmed over her relationship with Uther and forgot to mention Merlin altogether. As Kara also did, avoiding certain topics. Talking more about her sister and Krypton, never mentioning Lena, who undoubtedly was someone close to her heart.

So she asked more about her sister, about her language and Kara entertained her, laughing and complimenting her inquiring mind, snorted about her sometimes macabre humour.

Her eyes had more often than not in such moments a sorrowful glint. Lost in other memories. Never was it there when Morgana spoke about her childhood or magic, no it was there when she asked endless questions about the universe.

Often the question, who Lena was, laid heavily on her tongue, wanting to burst out from her. A bright grin or a thoughtless touch, hands brushing together, shoulders nudging always kept her from speaking it.

Seeing the shadows of grief lurking in the light of warm blue eyes. Morgana instead cherished her affections, open softness and kindness.

Wanted the comforting or teasing gestures. Therefore, she swallowed the question, enjoying their straightforward camaraderie, willing to wait for Kara’s disclosure.

They spent the nights, watching the night sky and the stars. Either Kara telling her myths about the stars, showing her constellations or falling asleep curled together.

Now in this village Morgana had sent Kara ahead to a nearby alehouse, hoping Kara could not get in too much trouble without her.

Meanwhile, Morgana stoked up their supplies, making mindless conversation with the vendors, always keeping an eye out for trouble heading her way, minding her surroundings suspiciously.

She hasted from stall to stall, feeling weirdly vulnerable without Kara at her side and was glad when she had purchased everything they required.

Even from a distance, she could hear loud chatter, the clinking of tankards and drunken shouts coming out of the alehouse. Nothing seemed amiss. 

Opening the heavy door, she coughed at the smothering smoke hanging in the air, clouding the room, in a white-grey fog. Side-stepping a barmaid weighed down by a dangerous amount of jugs in her hands, filled to the brink and nearly spilling over, she searched for the familiar blond hair. Finding it in a small hidden corner.

Her relief was short-lived. Five men encircled Kara was encircled, all wearing armour. Morgana would recognise their cloaks and symbol everywhere. Knights of Camelot. 

Cursing, she evaluated the situation, spied the Knights already clasping the hilts of their swords. Sighted on her second look, hidden behind Kara a young woman, tears running down her cheeks, clinging to her red “cape“.

With narrowed eyes, Morgana strutted up to hem, stopping beside Kara, hoping they wouldn’t identify her right away.

“Darling, here you are.“ She easily stepped up to Kara, resting a hand on her shoulder, catching her gaze, not sparing the knights one.

“These men were bothering the lady.“ Kara hissed through clenched teeth, a scowl on her face, glaring at them. Morgana was certain, she spotted the beginning of white, sparking in her eyes, a sign of her “heat vision“.

“Were they now.“ Morgana turned to the men, assessing them.

“We told you to sod off. This matter is none of your concern.“ One growled. 

“I might think it is.“ Morgana tilted her head in challenge, resting her hand visibly on her own hilt, which caught the Knights off guard. 

Making unmistakably clear, how this would end if they didn’t back off. Most of them only seemed to get angrier, a woman daring to oppose them. Another step they made circling them completely. Morgana wasn’t worried, feeling Kara directly next to her, in a fighting stance.

“What is the meaning of this?“ A bark from another knight, he was followed by nine others. 

The commander of the troop by the looks. Morgana cursed again, too late to turn her face away or draw the bonnet deeper into her face, the commander’s gaze fell on her. Surprise flashed in his face.

“The Lady Morgana,“ he breathed out, still loud enough for the others to hear. Morgana flinched, reacting rapidly, clasping Kara’s hand in her own.

“Run!“ Was the only command she gave, knocking a bank over that blocked some knights and startled the rest of the surrounding tavern. 

Pulling Kara out of the tavern, above the set-ting sun, stumbling down the road out of the village. As they were a few feet away, they listened to the door forcefully being thrown open, shouted commands to bring the horses. Morgana ignored them, rushing forward, not looking back.

“I could fly or speed us out of here.“ Kara offered, not even panting. Morgana shook her head, desperately searching for an escape route.

“They still want us alive. If you show the slightest bit of magic or I they’ll desire our head.“

Gasping for breath, she pulled Kara off the road into the outlying woods, hoping to be concealed by the trees. Planning to seek a hideout for the night after they gained enough distance between them and the pursuers. 

Mumbling curses at the loudly approaching hooves, she stopped evading the underbrush, branches tearing at her skin, ferns hitting her face. Morgana was just glad she no longer wore the gown, the breeches protecting her somewhat. 

Growling as she stumbled over a rock, Kara took the lead dragging her with her. Not knowing, nor caring in which direction they went. Sweat ran down her face and neck, her hair sticking to it, even in her up do. Sputtering hair out of her mouth, groaning at the aching in her muscles. Not sure how long she could endure it.

Decision made, Morgana stopped, hauling Kara with her, pressing against the bark of an enormous tree. 

Catching her breath, she watched Kara, her eyes flickering from one direction to another, moving her head, she was listening for their pursuers. A determined glint in her pale blue eyes, the hand in hers squeezed tightly.

“I wager, they find us soon. Trying to outrun them while they have horses is foolish.“

Kara’s head snapped to her, scrutinising her, accepting their next move. The sensible move, would have been to draw her sword, to prepare for the attack. 

They might not want to kill the knights, especially because they were neither here to kill them nor because she remembered fighting alongside a few.

Running away from Camelot did not mean Camelot was suddenly her enemy, and she thirsted for the blood of everyone there.

The foolish move was staring at Kara, with her windswept hair, tense muscles, visible through the thin cotton of her shirt. 

Foolish to think about her face and how it adorably scrunched up first thing in the morning. To ignore the silent buzzing of want inside her.

Remembering how it felt to be embraced by her or how close they laid at night. The whispers in the night when Kara told stories about people long gone with such a yearning in her voice, it stole her breath away.

The even more foolish move was following Kara’s tongue as she wetted pink plush lips. Her hands clenching and unclenching by her side. She felt the buzz of her magic coming to life.

The foolishest move was surging forward, gripping Kara’s broad shoulders tightly, kissing her. Morgana had intended for it to be chaste, a simple brush of lips, to satisfy the stirring desire in her before they might get caught or killed. 

She leaned away as she felt Kara’s frozen form against, prepared to beg forgiveness for her inappropriateness. 

Yet Kara melted into her, bringing their bodies impossible closer, responding to her, tilting her head, theirs noses slightly brushing together, deepening the kiss. Morgana pulled away for a moment, needing to breathe, unable to open her eyes, before she felt Kara place another and another small kiss on her lips, sighing softly.

Moaning she slid a hand in golden tresses, tracing the seam of Kara’s lips, begging for entrance. Groaning as it was granted. Licking into her mouth. A dragon could have swooped down from the sky, and she wouldn’t have realised it. Sinking deeper into Kara, felt strong hands, curling around her hips.

Panting she ended the kiss, grasping for air. Opening her eyes, she stared at Kara’s closed ones. Morgana longed to see sky blue orbs. 

Kara leaned back against the bark of the tree, her hair mussed from Morgana’s hand raking through it, lips partly open. Unbelieving and entranced, she tenderly ran her thumb over her lip, already aching for a taste again.

Blown, midnight blue eyes met hers, flickering from her eyes to her lips, Kara’s chest brushing against hers with every inhale and exhale. This moment could have lasted forever.

But the clinking of armour and pounding of hooves disturbed her wishes. Morgana knew any moment they would be surrounded. So she leaned once more a fraction forward, catching Kara in a short kiss. Pecking her lips a last time.

“There!“

Unsheathing her sword, Morgana spun around standing protectively in front of Kara. Meeting every knight’s gaze with a furious glare of her own as her heart still tried to beat out of her chest.

“This won’t end well for you,“ Kara’s hoarse voice pitched in. Stepping forward out of Morgana’s cover, tilting her body defensively in Morgana's direction getting into a fighting stance. Meeting each other’s glances, they nodded and leaped forward into action in unison.

* * *

"I didn’t think we would use the rope for something like this.” Morgana said casually not looking at Kara.

"Nothing new for me. Some of my enemies need improvised handcuffs, because they are just bigger than average, or poisonous, can inflame themselves or other inhumane abilities. This is more like a normal Tuesday.”

Morgana smiled slightly at Kara as she listed, counting on her fingers, but couldn’t help raising her eyebrow startled.

"Inflame? That’s a lot. And you have to answer all my questions later. We need to leave. These knights won’t stay unconscious forever,” she pointed the fifteen knights, now tightly bound in fives to different trees, unarmed. 

They had fought bravely and honourable. Kara and her were just unstoppable. Knocking them out, harming them as little as they could, leaving none of them mortally wounded. After defeating them, making sure everyone was out, Kara manhandled them, while she sorted out useful goods they could need. 

A few gold coins, a better sword for Kara, a bow and a quiver full of arrows, little knives. Finely made leather boots and one of the horses. A strong black steed, a destrier. It was a tall horse and would have no trouble carrying both of them and their belongings. 

It was not the least frightened by her or Kara not swishing its tail like the others. Ears relaxed and not stiff and tipped forward. A perfect fit it seemed. 

The rest of the horses they unbound and shooed off, not wanting the men to give chase when they freed themselves. Morgana observed for a moment, how Kara bound the Knights firmly, yet not so they were hurt in the process. Kara caught her gaze, grinning shyly up to her and Morgana felt the earlier buzzing start up again.

And the heavy blush spreading in her cheeks. She had hoped her hedonistic deed and the thrill of a fight would have left her calm, letting her be in peace. 

Hoped it would sizzle out like a fire in the rain. So the fuzzy feeling she got had nothing to do with her impulsive decision or Kara’s sparkling smile and how exquisitely tousled her hair was after their fight. No, it had all to do with the fact they hadn’t eaten yet after all the running and sun was already setting.

Surely. As surely as she did not smile back, was not in the slightest charmed at Kara’s triumphant wiggling and therefore not shocked as Kara stood suddenly in front of her. 

In so close proximity to her she got goosebumps from the emitting heat from Kara reaching her. Also she didn’t flinch in surprise when Kara’s hand found her shoulder, squeezing it encouragingly.

" Look what I found.” Kara beamed holding out a book, bound in leather, dry with age, strange markings on the cover with no visible title. 

Opening it the first page was brittle and blank, but the next one was scribbled full with words. Words in Old English. The Realisation must have shown in her face because looking astonished up Kara beamed even brighter at her.

“These are incantations. This is a book full of spells.”

" I thought so. Can you read it?” Morgana tried, and she understood. 

"The first pages are a preamble about magic. The author talks about where magic comes from and how it’s tied with the Old Religion. This is marvellous. With this I might learn to control mine. I wonder how they got this,” her wonder dying down at the thought. A group of knights with a book about magic. Druids surely had many tomes about it. Were those the one who had-

She whirled around to the commander of the troop, still out of it, slapping him firmly. While he groaned and took a few seconds to come to his senses. Morgana seethed. If these men were responsible for the raid on the druids-

"What? Set us free at once. We are knights of Camelot, we-”

" Stop talking. Where did you get this?” Morgana growled, teeth clenching tightly, holding herself back until she had an answer. For a second the commander said nothing and Morgana was prepared to get an answer no matter what it would take.

"In a village three days south from here. A villager gave it to us, telling us about a merchant who gifted it to his youngest daughter not yet four summers old. He was afraid the merchant might have cursed the girl. We took it with us to present it to the king,” he swallowed not meeting her deadly glare. 

Morgana discerned no lie in his words and the magic ebbed away slowly. 

"Could you knock him out again?” Morgana sighed as she watched Kara do it before turning to her.

"Are you all right?”

" I think so. I thought with the book and the druids that-,” she couldn’t even say it.

"That they might be responsible for the massacre.” 

She nodded. “Ready to get back on the road?”, Morgana deflected not wanting to talk about it. 

Kara gazed at her for a moment evaluating. Blue eyes soft and searching.

" Yes.”

Morgana’s throat felt dry like after a long sparring duel or another assemble of nobles she had to entertain. A night of fake laughter, storytelling and dancing with left-footed men all night. 

No one but Gwen cared how she was. And here was Kara genuinely asking after her wellbeing.

Walking up to the horse, she climbed in the back of the horse, holding the reins. She waited for Kara to come too only that she didn’t. 

Looking over her shoulder, she watched Kara mentally debating on how to mount the horse, standing with both her hands resting on the horse’s back.

“Just hop on. The horse can handle it.”

" Are you sure? I mean I never really was this close to one? And what if I can smell I’m diffe-rent or we are too heavy for it? Or I use too much strength and hurt it accidentally,” Kara rambled.

" You won’t hurt it. Perhaps try flying on it carefully and then you need only to hold on to me. Trust me, nothing will happen.” 

She reminded Kara soothingly, watching as Kara griped the bridge if her nose, breathing out deeply. 

" Alright, here goes nothing.” 

Worried cerulean eyes once more met hers before Kara hovered over the ground, then over the horse. Descending slowly until she sat behind Morgana, advancing till her whole front was pressed against Morgana’s back. 

Strong arms wound around her hip snugly and she could feel the little puffs of inhaling and exhaling on her shoulder.

Creating goosebumps in their wake and making her head spin a little that she unconsciously tightened her hold on the horse. Giving it the command to trot. Eliciting a gasp from her and an alarmed squeak from Kara.

"Easy.” She alleviated both the horse and her companion. 

Leading it through the trees away from their pursuers and back on the road. Kara’s snug embrace loosened the longer they rode onward. 

They would have to ride through the night. She said as much to Kara, who wasn’t keen on the idea, but contributed that she could navigate them with her better sight. 

Morgana laid back against Kara as the daylight faded and stars sprinkled the night sky. Listening to Kara’s whispered commands and stealing her warmth as it got chilly. The tranquillity of the forest was back, even with the creatures lurking in the dark.

"Stormy would be a great name for a horse.”

“We are not naming him,” she gave Kara over her shoulder a look.

“Everybody needs a name.” Rolling her eyes at the grin she got, she gave up. 

She pitied the poor animal. Such a wretched name for such a striking creature. Shaking her head, hiding the smile on the corner of her lips, she pulled the horse into a gallop as the moon illuminated the trail. 

Leaving the woods for open fields. And with every hoove step farther away from Camelot, from Uther into the unknown freedom awaiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> so this is the end of part one. I decided to cut the story here because with my upcoming finals I'm not sure when or if I will find time to write. I will try but are not promising anything.  
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter and until next time.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for giving my story a try. English is not my first language therefore I'm always looking to improve.  
> So if you have any ideas for improvement or critiques please feel free to leave a comment! Thank you so much and I hope you enjoyed the read!


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